CHUMS 

EDWIN  L.SABIN 


ft  f 


HE  LINED  A  COURSE  STRAIGHT  FOR  THE  BOAT. 


• 

»    »  »  o       ••        «*.    « 


MEW  YORK 


COPYRIGHT,  1905, 
BY  THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  &  COMPANY 


J  t  '/£ 


Contents 

I.  THE  JUNE  RISE  .....          i 

II.  THE  GREAT  LUMBER  FIRE  .          .          .          .21 

III.  THE  BREAK-  WATER  ACCIDENT      .          .          -35 

IV.  THE  CAMP  AT  DEEP  CREEK          ...       49 
V.  TURTLES,  FISH,  FROGS  AND  SNAKES        .          .       65 

VI.  THE  GHOST  OF  THE  INDIAN  MOUNDS     .          .       86 

VII.  THE  COUNTY  FAIR     .....      106 

VIII.  NED  THE  NIMROD       .....      117 

IX.  THE  CAMPAIGN  PARADE       .          .          .          .136 

X.  THE  TROUBLE  AT  BREEDE'S  HILL  .  151 

XI.  THE  ROUTING  OF  BIG  MIKE         .          .          .      168 

XII.  THE  LONG  SKATE       .....     181 

XIII.  AN  UNEXPECTED  BAG          ....     202 

XIV.  BIG  MIKE  AGAIN        .          .          .         .          .218 
XV.  JUST  ABOUT  BOB         .          .         .         .          .237 

XVI.  THE  LAST  OF  BOB      .....      248 

XVII.  THE  RAID  THAT  FAILED     .         .          .          .261 

XVIII.  CHANGES.         .         .  ...     274 


M61919 


Beaufort  Chums 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  JUNE  RISE 

"f    •    ^\HE  river  is  coming  up  at  the  rate  of  an 

inch    an   hour ! "    announced    Mr.    Miller, 

JL      reading  from  the  evening  paper.     "At  one 

o'clock  it  was  eighteen  feet,  and  reports  from  the 

north  indicate  the  highest  water  ever  known  on  the 

Upper  Mississippi." 

"  Hurrah ! "  cheered  Ned,  who  was  sitting  on  the 
porch  steps,  waiting  for  supper,  and  had  heard 
through  the  open  window. 

"  Why,  Ned  !  "  rebuked  his  mother.  "  Think  of 
all  the  suffering  this  means  !  " 

"  Well,  anyway,  the  river's  booming,"  ventured 
Ned,  abashed.  "  It's  even  with  the  railroad  tracks. 
I  was  down  looking  at  it  after  school." 

"  I'm  sorry  for  the  poor  people  on  the  flats — the 
lowlands  must  be  flooded,"  continued  Mrs.  Miller. 

"  But  they  tie  their  houses  to  trees  with  ropes, 
and  move  into  the  second  stories,  and  go  about  on 
rafts,"  explained  Ned,  to  whom  such  a  plight  was  not 
without  fun. 


2  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Still,  I  fancy  that  these  people  don't  find  their  fix 
very  amusing,  Ned,"  commented  his  father.  "  Nor  is 
it  humorous  to  the  merchants  to  have  their  cellars 
swamped  and  their  goods  damaged." 

Ned  temporarily  subsided — meekly  convinced  of 
the  sejious  phase  of  a  freshet,  but  nevertheless  seeing 
sport  in  prospect. 

"  Sfiy^ fstther,-'  he  blurted  out,  in  the  midst  of  sup- 
per, "  Hal " 

"  Neddie !  How  often  have  I  told  you  not  to  ad- 
dress anybody  with  '  say '  ?  "  interrupted  his  mother, 
severely. 

"  Oh  !  "  admitted  Ned,  guilt  in  his  tones.  Rallying 
from  the  setback  he  resumed  : 

"  I  only  wanted  to  ask  if  I  couldn't  go  over  on 
Eagle  Island  to-morrow  with  Hal,  in  our  boat.  It's 
all  under  water,  and  every  one  has  moved  off." 

"  /  have  no  special  objection,"  answered  his  father, 
"  if  you'll  promise  to  be  careful." 

"  Neddie,  do  be  careful,"  implored  his  mother. 
"  You  surely  will,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  assured  Ned.  "  But,  pshaw,  there 
isn't  any  danger.  You  couldn't  tip  over  the  boat  if 
you  tried ! " 

"  However,  I  wouldn't  try,  if  I  were  you,"  re- 
marked his  father.  Then  he  added,  teasingly : 

"  We'll  let  him  have  this  Saturday  for  his  fun, 
Helen,  and  next  Saturday  he'll  have  some  wood  to 
pile  !  I've  ordered  eleven  loads,  and  it  will  be  hauled 
during  the  week." 


The  June  Rise  3 

"  Oh,  father !  Eleven  loads  ! "  exclaimed  Ned,  in 
dismay. 

The  next  day,  Saturday,  dawned  clear  and  soft,  a 
typical  June  morning.  Ned  turned  out  early,  and 
had  most  of  his  chores  done  before  breakfast,  despite 
the  fact  that  a  double  supply  of  wood  was  necessary 
for  the  kitchen  stove,  in  order  to  last  over  Sunday. 

When,  at  eight  o'clock,  Hal  Lucas  whistled  for 
him,  in  front,  he  was  ready  to  start.  Stuffing  his 
lunch,  wrapped  in  two  packages,  into  his  side  coat- 
pockets,  he  rushed  through  the  house,  kissing  his 
mother  on  his  way,  and  out  of  the  gate. 

"  Now,  be  careful,  Ned  !  "  called  his  mother,  after 
him. 

"  I  will,"  he  shouted.     "  Good-bye." 

Mrs.  Miller  stood  on  the  porch,  watching  the  two 
boys  as  they  merrily  trudged  off.  Ned  had  many  a 
time  asserted,  with  truth,  that  although  he  might  go 
upon  the  river  every  day  for  fifty  years,  each  time 
his  mother  would  be  worried  about  him  until  he 
came  home  again.  A  mother's  heart  is  a  very  anx- 
ious heart. 

Ned  and  Hal  hastened  down  the  street.  Ahead 
of  them  they  could  see  the  river  sparkling  under  the 
rays  of  the  sun.  Ordinarily  it  was  not  visible  from 
this  distance  ;  but  at  present,  far  out  of  its  bed,  it  was 
right  on  a  level  with  the  railroad  skirting  it. 

"  My !  She's  on  a  tear,  isn't  she  !  "  said  Hal,  en- 
thusiastically. 

"  If  ever   she   gets   over   the  tracks   she'll   come 


4  Beaufort  Chums 

whooping,  my  father  says,"  responded  Ned.  "  She's 
higher  than  the  street,  now  ! " 

Without  question  the  river  was,  to  use  Hal's  ex- 
pression, "  on  a  tear."  People  along  the  Mississippi 
expect,  as  a  matter  of  course,  high  water  in  the  spring 
and  early  summer.  Moderate  high  water  is  wel- 
comed. It  enables  the  logging  companies  to  float 
their  stranded  logs ;  it  washes  clean  the  banks  and 
the  lowlands,  carrying  away  tons  of  stuff  that  other- 
wise might  breed  illness ;  it  is  one  of  nature's 
thorough  purifiers. 

But  here  was  a  "  June  rise "  with  a  vengeance. 
Up  in  the  northern  pineries  the  heavy  snows  of  the 
past  winter  were  melting  all  at  once  beneath  long- 
continued  rains.  Every  stream  was  a  torrent,  pour- 
ing its  swollen  tide  into  the  Mississippi.  As  a 
consequence  of  this  hearty  diet,  the  old  Father  of 
Waters  had  increased  his  girth  enormously.  Never 
was  a  prize  grunter  fattened  so  rapidly. 

His  bulk  began  to  take  up  more  room  than  was 
comfortable  for  his  neighbors.  Some  persons  were 
forced  to  flee  for  their  lives ;  others  were  prepared  to 
leave  their  homes  at  a  moment's  notice.  Whole 
towns  were  in  danger  of  being  flooded. 

At  Beaufort  the  sewers  were  being  filled  and  the 
water,  creeping  through  them,  flowed  out  far  inland. 
Cellars  were  being  invaded ;  and  seeping  up,  the 
crafty  flood  inundated  great  tracts  of  street  and  yard 
in  the  lower-lying  resident  portions  of  the  town. 

When,  after  school  on  the  previous  afternoon,  Ned 


The  June  Rise  5 

had  gone  down  to  look  at  the  river,  there  had  been 
hardly  any  water  inside  the  tracks  at  the  foot  of 
Maple  Street.  But  this  morning  the  boys  found 
quite  a  pond  had  gathered  during  the  night.  In 
places  the  board  walks  on  either  hand  were  afloat, 
and  children  were  running  back  and  forth  over  them, 
shouting  with  delight  as  the  water  spurted  up  be- 
tween the  cracks. 

"  She's  soaking  through,"  commented  Hal. 

Ned  nodded,  and  saying,  "  Come  on,"  deliberately 
continued  on  the  route,  over  the  wavy,  unsteady 
walk.  Hal  followed.  Both  boys  disdained  to  hurry 
their  pace  one  bit,  even  to  avoid  wet  feet.  They 
deemed  that  a  show  of  dignity  was  necessary,  to  im- 
press the  scampering,  screaming  youngsters  who  were 
spectators. 

With  a  spring  they  leaped  the  open  space  between 
the  end  of  the  walk  and  the  railroad  embankment. 
Their  feet  sank  deep  into  the  mushy  cinders  as  they 
scrambled  to  the  top. 

This  was  four  tracks  wide,  and  usually  was  a  good 
stone's  throw  from  the  river's  edge.  To-day  the 
water  was  lapping  at  the  rails.  North  and  south 
were  scattered  gangs  of  men  with  shovels,  watching 
to  patch  the  slightest  break.  Seemingly  the  em- 
bankment was  all  that  kept  the  water  from  rushing 
into  the  principal  streets. 

Ned  and  Hal  stood  and  gazed  in  silent  wonder  at 
the  scene  before  them.  The  river  was  not  that 
friendly  river  to  which  they  were  accustomed.  It 


6  Beaufort  Chums 

was  a  sullen,  menacing  monster,  without  a  single  fa- 
miliar aspect.  The  water  was  an  opaque,  ugly  yellow, 
and  was  thickly  charged  with  sediment.  Extending 
as  far  as  eye  could  reach  it  swept  past,  bearing  on 
its  mighty  breast  trunks  of  trees,  pieces  of  lumber, 
fragments  of  buildings,  and  not  infrequently  an  entire 
shed  or  small  house. 

There  was  no  levee,  no  shore,  no  anything — save 
water.  The  big  Diamond  Jo  warehouse,  with  its 
basement  story  completely  submerged,  was  secured 
by  a  hawser  encircling  it. 

Commodore  Jones'  little  fish-market  and  boats-to- 
hire  establishment,  a  few  rods  below,  also  was  an- 
chored by  a  rope.  The  water  was  within  a  couple 
of  inches  of  its  platform ;  but  nevertheless,  river 
threatening  each  moment  to  carry  him  away,  here 
sat  the  commodore,  smoking  his  pipe. 

The  boys  strolled  to  a  point  on  the  embankment 
opposite  him. 

"  Good-morning,  commodore,"  they  called. 

"  Mornin',  young  fellers,"  responded  the  commo- 
dore. "  Better  not  come  crost  them  planks,"  he 
admonished,  indicating  the  narrow  bridge  which  con- 
nected his  quarters  with  the  land. 

"  We  don't  want  to,"  replied  Ned.  "  How's  the 
water  ?  Still  rising  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  the  commodore.  "  She  ain't 
raised  any  since  midnight.  I  look  for  her  to  begin 
to  go  down  pretty  soon,  now.  She's  fallin'  up 
north." 


The  June  Rise  7 

"  Do  you  think  the  embankment  will  hold  ? " 
asked  Hal,  anxiously. 

"  Certain,  'less  we  have  an  east  wind,"  assured  the 
commodore,  between  his  puffs.  "  East  wind  would 
pile  up  the  waves  an'  no  knowin'  what  would 
happen." 

41  I  guess  we'll  go  out  in  our  boat,"  announced  Ned. 

"  Well,  it's  there  with  them  others  under  the  lee 
of  the  warehouse,"  said  the  commodore,  with  a  jerk 
of  his  pipe  toward  the  cluster  of  skiffs  tied  along  the 
embankment,  in  the  angle  formed  by  the  end  of  the 
steamboat  building,  and  thus  shielded  from  the  cur- 
rent. "  Reckon  I  wouldn't  take  no  chances  though, 
if  I  was  you.  River's  full  of  drift-wood." 

The  commodore  was  a  stoical,  gruff  old  veteran  of 
the  Mississippi — whereby  his  title — and  this  advice 
was  no  small  concession. 

«  We'll  be  careful,"  cried  Hal. 

"  Oh,  it's  safe  enough,"  grunted  the  commodore, 
lapsing  into  the  apparent  surliness  which  covered  a 
really  kind  heart. 

The  boys  proceeded  to  their  boat,  and  unlocked 
its  painter  from  the  larger  chain  to  which  all  the 
boats  were  fastened. 

The  craft  of  which  they  were  joint  owners  was  of 
that  type  known  on  the  Mississippi  as  scull-boat  or 
sink-boat.  It  was  low  and  flat,  with  a  smooth,  dish- 
shaped  keel,  sharp  prow,  and  overhanging  stern. 
Its  bows  were  decked,  and  a  combing  ran  along  the 
gunwale. 


8  Beaufort  Chums 

It  was  a  very  convenient,  reliable  boat.  Under  the 
decked  bows  could  be  stowed  a  surprising  amount 
of  stuff.  Being  made  from  thin  strips  of  cedar,  it 
was  exceedingly  buoyant  and  light ;  and  in  conse- 
quence of  its  width  and  "  flatness,"  sitting  as  it  did  so 
low  in  the  water,  capsizing  was  almost  impossible. 
As  an  extra  precaution,  however,  Mr.  Miller  and  Mr. 
Lucas  had  caused  air-cylinders  of  copper  to  be  in- 
serted, inside  the  bows. 

There  were  no  seats  or  thwarts.  The  boys  sprawled 
about  on  the  straw  in  the  bottom.  The  one  who 
rowed  sat  on  a  soap-box  ;  the  one  who  sculled — for 
in  the  stern  was  a  hole  for  a  sculling-oar — perched 
on  the  gunwale. 

You  see,  the  boat  was  so  steady  that  it  did  not 
much  matter  how  the  persons  in  it  acted. 

Sometimes  the  boys  rowed,  sometimes  they  sculled, 
and  sometimes,  if  in  a  hurry  or  fought  by  a  strong 
current,  they  both  rowed  and  sculled.  When  not 
in  use  the  boat  was  quartered  with  Commodore 
Jones. 

Hal  jumped  in,  shipped  the  single  pair  of  oars,  and 
then  plumped  into  the  stern  ;  Ned  shoved  off,  and 
squatting  on  the  soap-box  applied  himself  to  navi- 
gating, for  it  happened  to  be  his  turn. 

"  Watch  out  for  the  lath  !  "  cautioned  Hal. 

"  Say — I  bet  you  it's  from  the  Beaufort  Lumber 
Company's  yards ! "  exclaimed  Ned,  twisting  his 
head  to  look  over  the  bows. 

Countless  bunches  of  lath,  extending  up  the  river 


The  June  Rise  g 

as  far  as  the  boys  could  see,  were  passing  down  in  a 
long,  straight  string.  A  few  vigorous  strokes  with 
the  oars  shot  the  boat  out  of  the  eddy  formed  by  the 
warehouse,  and  into  the  current,  and  carried  them 
through  the  line  of  lath.  Now  the  craft  was  clear  of 
obstructions. 

Eagle  Island  was  a  large  tract  of  heavily  wooded 
land,  reaching  down  river  from  off  the  lower  end  of 
town.  It  was  four  miles  in  length,  and  half  a  mile  or 
more  in  breadth.  Paper-mill  Slough  separated  it 
from  the  mainland.  Quite  a  settlement  of  wood- 
choppers,  small  farmers,  and  mill  employees  lived 
upon  it ;  and  with  its  nuts,  its  fishing,  and  its  other 
attractions,  it  was  a  favorite  resort  for  the  Beaufort 
youth. 

The  powerful  current  of  the  freshet  swept  the  voy- 
agers rapidly  onward.  In  a  moment  they  had  passed 
under  the  bridge,  against  the  piers  of  which  the 
water  boiled  and  swirled.  On  the  nearer  shore  they 
caught  a  glimpse,  here  and  there,  of  shanties  held  in 
place  by  ropes,  and  of  their  tenants  paddling  about 
the  thresholds  in  skiffs.  The  river  appeared  to  be 
among  the  lumber  piles  of  the  Mosher  Lumber  Com- 
pany, even  ! 

Of  the  farther  shore  nothing  was  to  be  seen.  The 
water  stretched  in  this  direction  for  miles  and  miles, 
only  a  fringe  of  willows  marking  its  ordinary 
bounds. 

And  now  they  were  beyond  the  lumber  yards,  and 
had  entered  Paper-mill  Slough. 


lo  Beaufort  Chums 

The  head  of  Eagle  Island  was  still  high  and  dry, 
above  the  reach  of  the  flood.  The  current,  split  by 
the  promontory,  was  not  so  swift  in  the  slough  as  in 
the  river  proper. 

The  boys  kept  close  to  the  island,  and  presently 
the  ground  had  so  descended  that  the  water  was 
rushing  in  among  the  trees. 

"  Where  will  we  go  in  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Oh,  anywhere,"  replied  Hal ;  adding :  "  Let's  go 
in  here." 

"  Well,  then,  you  scull,"  said  Ned,  dealing  the  boat 
a  sudden  twist  with  the  left-hand  oar,  and  sending  it 
obliquely  into  the  woods. 

With  a  quick  motion  he  unshipped  the  oars  from 
their  locks  and  himself  from  the  soap-box,  and  sitting 
comfortably  on  the  straw,  his  back  against  the  half- 
deck  of  the  bows,  he  took  it  easy. 

Between  the  hickories  and  the  oaks  glided  the 
nimble  craft,  the  screw-like  movement  of  the  sculling 
oar,  deftly  managed  by  Hal,  giving  it  an  agreeable 
wriggling,  rocking  motion. 

The  water  varied  in  depth.  In  some  places  the 
oar-blade  touched  bottom  ;  again  no  bottom  was  to 
be  found.  Above  the  surface  in  the  shallows  the 
tops  of  weeds  and  bushes  swayed  with  the  current. 
Not  a  sound  of  human  life  was  heard.  The  only 
noises  to  break  the  silence  were  the  twitterings  of 
uneasy  birds  amidst  the  branches  of  the  trees,  and 
once  in  a  while  a  slight  scrape  from  the  boat's 
prow  as  Hal  steered  through  a  narrow  channel. 


The  June  Rise  n 

It  was  an  enchanted  island,  spellbound  by  the 
freshet. 

"  Doesn't  it  seem  queer,  though !  "  commented 
Ned,  after  they  had  gone  a  short  distance,  upon  a 
zigzag  course. 

"  I  should  say !  "  agreed  Hal,  letting  the  boat  drift, 
and  with  eyes  and  ears  drinking  in  the  novelty  of  it 
all.  "  Where  will  we  make  for  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  responded  Ned.  "  See  !  there's  a 
barn." 

Sure  enough,  directly  ahead  was  a  small,  un- 
painted,  weather-beaten  barn  just  visible  between  the 
tree-trunks.  Hal  began  to  scull  gently,  and  as  they 
drew  nearer  they  saw  a  house,  also,  not  far  from  it. 

The  scene  was  rather  pathetic — this  home,  lonely 
and  deserted,  standing  waist-deep  in  the  midst  of  the 
waters,  its  only  companions  the  silent  forest  trees. 

"  The  folks  who  lived  here  must  have  skipped  in  a 
big  hurry,"  observed  Ned.  "  They  didn't  even  stop 
to  close  their  up-stairs  windows." 

"  Perhaps  that's  the  way  they  got  out,"  suggested 
Hal. 

"  I  hear  a  dog  ! "  suddenly  Ned  exclaimed. 

"  He's  shut  in  the  house,"  said  Hal,  poising  his 
oar  and  listening. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  He's  around  somewhere,  that's 
sure,"  agreed  Ned.  "  Let's  go  nearer  and  see  about 
him." 

With  the  howling  of  the  dog  to  urge  them, 
they  sculled  forward.  First  in  their  path  was  the 


12  Beaufort  Chums 

barn ;  and  with  a  change  in  their  angle  of  view  Ned 
cried  : 

"  There  he  is  !     He's  in  the  loft !  " 

True  enough.  In  the  square  doorway  of  the  barn- 
loft  was  a  medium  size  brown  dog,  peering  out  to 
catch  their  coming.  Evidently  he  had  heard  their 
voices,  and  had  howled  for  help. 

"  Now,  I  call  that  a  shame !  "  declared  Ned. 

The  dog  howled  back  that  indeed  it  was. 

"  Let's  rescue  him,"  proposed  Hal,  laying  hold  of 
a  sapling,  to  keep  the  boat  where  the  dog  might  see 
them,  while  they  discussed  him.  "  Why,  he  must  be 
half  starved!" 

"  Unless  the  family  left  him  on  purpose,  and  put 
some  stuff  in  there  for  him  to  eat,"  hazarded  Ned. 

"  Then  he  ate  it  all  up  at  once — dogs  never  save, 
like  a  cat,"  rejoined  Hal,  sagely.  "  Besides,  I  don't 
believe  his  folks  did  that — they  simply  deserted  him, 
because  they  were  scared." 

"  But  how  can  we  get  at  him  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

Hal  released  his  hold  on  the  sapling,  and  sculled 
across  to  the  barn.  The  dog,  seeing  them  move 
toward  him,  whined  frantically,  and  craned  his  neck 
to  watch  them. 

They  rasped  along  the  gray  boards  of  the  barn 
until  they  came  to  a  door,  the  upper  half  of  which 
was  out  of  water. 

"  See  if  you  can  open  it,"  said  Hal.  "  Perhaps  we 
can  go  in  with  the  boat,  to  the  stairs." 

"  Padlocked,"  informed   Ned,  briefly,  and   in  dis- 


The  June  Rise  13 

gust.  "  That  proves  it !  They  left  him  here  on 
purpose." 

"  No,  sir-ee  ! "  Hal  insisted.  "  They  never  thought 
of  the  barn — they  skipped  after  it  had  been  locked 
for  the  night." 

They  made  a  circuit  of  the  barn,  but  there  was  no 
other  door;  and  although  within  easy  reach  there 
was  a  window,  of  dirty  panes,  it  was  quite  too  narrow 
for  entrance.  Besides,  the  water  hereabouts  was  five 
feet  deep,  as  Ned  found  by  sounding  with  an  oar, 
and  there  was  no  knowing  what  disagreeable  surprise 
the  inside  of  the  barn  might  offer  to  a  person  drop- 
ping through  the  window. 

He  peered  through  the  dingy  glass,  and  as  well  as 
he  could  scanned  the  dim,  shadowy  interior,  faintly 
shown  by  the  light  which  penetrated  between  the 
boards. 

"  Anyway,  I'm  glad  a  horse  or  cow  isn't  in  there," 
he  said. 

They  had  passed  out  of  the  dog's  sight,  and  he  was 
howling  piteously,  thinking  that  he  had  lost  them. 

"  We're  coming,"  shouted  Ned ;  and  they  hastened 
to  station  themselves  again  at  the  sapling  where  the 
dog  could  see  them. 

This  comforted  him,  and  his  howling  changed  to 
whines  of  greeting. 

"  Poor  doggie,"  spoke  Hal  to  him.  "  I  wish  we 
could  help  you  out  of  your  fix." 

«  Jump,"  called  Ned. 

The  two  boys  tried  in  vain  by  coaxing  and  com- 


14  Beaufort  Chums 

manding  to  make  the  dog  jump  from  the  window. 
It  was  only  about  eight  feet  to  the  surface  of  the 
water,  and  although  he  seemed  to  know  just  what 
they  wanted,  he  could  not  muster  spunk  for  the 
leap.  He  barked  and  whined,  and  crouched  and 
stretched,  one  end  willing  but  the  other  end  afraid ; 
and  on  the  very  brink  he  always  balked. 

"  Well,"  remarked  Hal,  finally,  "  I  don't  see  what 
we  can  do — we  can't  get  up  there,  and  you  won't 
come  down  here.  So  we'll  have  to  leave  you.  I 
hope  somebody  will  come  after  you  pretty  soon." 

"  It's  a  great  big  shame,  that's  what  it  is  !  "  de- 
clared Ned.  "  We'll  bring  you  over  some  meat, 
won't  we,  Hal ! " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  answered  Hal,  seizing  upon  the 
idea. 

"  One  thing  is  sure — he  won't  die  from  thirst !  " 
said  Ned,  looking  back  regretfully,  as  they  slowly 
sculled  off. 

The  dog,  seeing  them  go,  lifted  his  nose  and 
howled  as  if  his  heart  was  breaking. 

"  Pshaw ! "  exclaimed  Hal.  "  He  thinks  we're 
leaving  him  for  good." 

"  He's  going  to  jump  !  He's  going  to  jump  !  " 
cried  Ned,  suddenly.  "  Whistle  !  " 

Yes,  the  dog  was  nerving  himself  to  the  feat.  In 
desperation  he  fidgeted  from  side  to  side  of  the  door- 
way, craning,  running  back  and  forth,  and  acting  like 
a  dog  possessed. 

The  combined  whistle  of  the  boys  was  too  much  ! 


The  June  Rise  15 

"  Look  ! "  shouted  both  at  once. 

With  a  last  howl  he  was  in  mid-air,  his  legs  out- 
spread ;  and  in  a  twinkling  he  had  disappeared,  amid 
a  mighty  splash,  beneath  the  water. 

« My — that  must  have  hurt  his  stomach  like 
sixty  ! "  laughed  Hal. 

But  the  dog  seemed  not  hurt  a  particle.  In  a  mo- 
ment, above  the  surface  popped  his  head,  and  shak- 
ing it  vigorously  to  clear  his  eyes  and  ears  of  water, 
yapping  with  eagerness  and  excitement  he  lined  a 
course  straight  for  the  boat. 

"  Come  on,  come  on,  old  fellow ! "  urged  the  boys. 

"  Yap,  yap,  yap,  yap,  yap  !  "  said  the  dog. 

And  come  he  did,  as  fast  as  his  legs  and  paws 
could  send  him,  his  chest  cleaving  the  ripples,  and  a 
bubbly  wake  extending  far  behind  him. 

Speedily  he  had  gained  the  boat,  and  Ned  had 
pulled  him  in.  Convinced  that  now  he  was  saved, 
the  dog  went  into  perfect  transports  of  happiness. 
He  barked,  he  yelped,  he  whined,  he  snickered,  he 
twisted  his  body  into  knots ;  he  talked  to  one  boy, 
and  then  to  the  other,  and  then  to  the  two  at  once, 
telling  them  all  about  it ;  he  flicked  water  over  them 
with  his  whipping  tail,  and  shaking  himself  doused 
them  again  until  they  were  well-nigh  as  wet  as  he. 
And  how  he  grinned  ! 

"  He's  laughing  !  "  cried  Hal. 

Indeed,  this  was  true.  The  pendant  upper  lip  of 
the  dog  was  wrinkled  back,  so  that  he  was  showing 
his  white  teeth  in  a  ridiculous  grin ! 


16  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Well ! "  remarked  Ned,  staring  at  him.  "  It 
doesn't  make  him  look  very  pretty,  anyway." 

Which,  also,  was  true,  for  the  grin  was  like  a 
snarl. 

The  dog,  having  paid  his  respects,  cuddled  himself 
on  the  straw  of  the  bows,  in  the  sun,  and  there 
blinked,  now  and  then  expressing  his  ecstasy  by  a 
contented  little  sigh. 

"  He  knows  we've  got  to  keep  him,"  declared  Hal. 
"  We  can't  throw  him  up  into  the  loft  again,  and 
there's  no  other  place  for  him,  except  the  boat." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it,  too,"  asserted  Ned.  "  Those  peo- 
ple don't  deserve  a  dog,  after  the  way  they've  treated 
him  !  Do  they,  pup  ?  " 

The  dog,  hearing  himself  addressed,  whimpered  as 
if  in  memory  of  a  dark  past,  and  at  the  same  time 
thumped  his  tail  in  celebration  of  a  bright  present. 

"  But  maybe  we'll  have  to  return  him,"  prophesied 
Hal,  mechanically  working  the  sculling  oar.  "  He's 
a  pointer,  and  perhaps  he's  valuable." 

"  Do  you  suppose  we  can  find  the  house  again  ?  " 
mused  Ned. 

"  Our  folks  might  make  us  try,"  replied  Hal. 
"  Let's  scull  away  as  hard  as  we  can,  without  looking 
where  we're  going.  Then  we'll  lose  it." 

Acting  upon  his  own  suggestion  Hall  sculled 
stoutly,  skimming  aimlessly  between  the  trees,  and 
soon  the  house  and  barn  were  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"  There ! "  he  panted,  ceasing  his  exertions,  and 
letting  the  boat  drift.  "  Now  where  are  we  ?  " 


The  June  Rise 


17 


"  I  give  it  up,"  candidly  confessed  Ned.  "  The 
water  changes  everything  so.  But  what's  the  matter 
with  eating  ?  Aren't  you  hungry  ?  " 

"  Hungry  !  "  exclaimed  Hal.     "  You  watch  me." 

As  the  boys  untied  their  packages  of  lunch  the 
dog  sat  up  in  expectation.  He  was  all  eyes  and 
mouth. 

"  He's  hungry,  too,"  declared  Hal.  "  He  heard  us 
say  '  eat.'  Here— catch  !  " 

He  tossed  a  slice  of  bread  at  their  canine  charge, 
and  down  it  went,  apparently  swallowed  whole. 

The  lunch  which  had  been  intended  for  two  did 
for  three ;  the  boys  munched  and  the  dog  gobbled, 
and  presently  scarcely  a  crumb  remained. 

During  this  time  the  boat  had  been  carried  by  the 
current,  bumping  into  tree-trunks,  and  swinging  to 
right  and  to  left,  with  weeds  and  bushes  scraping 
along  its  bottom  and  against  its  sides. 

The  boys  lolled  on  the  warm  straw,  and  the  dog, 
no  doubt  exhausted  by  his  vigils  in  the  barn-loft, 
went  to  sleep. 

It  was  very  pleasant,  thus  to  float  through  the 
green  woods,  over  ground  which  they  so  often  had 
traversed  afoot.  Occasionally  they  saw  other  houses 
and  barns,  flooded  and  lifeless,  and  in  all  respects 
appearing  much  the  same  as  the  place  at  which  the 
pointer  had  been  discovered. 

"  Well,  if  the  dog  can  go  there  again,  all  right," 
murmured  Hal.  "  /  can't." 

"  I  either,"  declared  Ned,  drowsily. 


l8  Beaufort  Chums 

At  length  the  boat  emerged  into  an  open  area, 
with  only  pond-lily  pads  and  buds  breaking  the 
ripples. 

"  Hello !  "  spoke  Hal.  "  This  must  be  Beaver 
Lake,  Ned." 

"  So  it  is,"  agreed  Ned.  "  I  believe  we  ought  to 
turn  back  and  strike  for  home,  if  we  want  to  take 
things  easy.  If  we  go  any  farther  we'll  have  an 
awful  job  getting  back." 

He  seized  the  sculling  oar,  and  swinging  the  craft 
around  headed  into  the  trees  again. 

"  I'll  scull,"  he  said,  "  and  when  we  reach  the 
slough  you  can  row." 

The  return  progress  was  slower,  for  the  current 
was  against  them.  Whenever  Hal  could  help  with 
the  oars,  he  did,  but  at  many  points  there  was  not 
room  to  use  them.  However,  the  current,  while 
hindering,  also  served  as  a  guide. 

"  The  river's  falling ! "  suddenly  cried  Hal,  point- 
ing to  a  tree-trunk  close  at  hand.  "  See  there  !  " 

A  narrow  margin  of  wet,  marking  where  the  water 
must  have  been,  was  visible  on  the  bark,  above  the 
smooth  tide. 

"  And  there's  some  mud ! "  he  triumphantly 
added,  at  a  strip  of  ooze  from  which  the  water  had 
receded. 

"  Humph  !  "  commented  Ned ;  whether  from  pleas- 
ure or  disappointment,  was  not  clear. 

Yes,  the  crest  of  the  freshet  had  passed.  Upon 
every  tree  within  sight  was  the  unmistakable  sign. 


The  June  Rise  19 

But  the  dog  in  the  bows  of  the  boat  slept  on.  He 
was  not  interested ;  for  all  he  cared  the  flood  might 
last  forever.  He  was  beyond  its  clutches. 

The  trip  home  was  achieved  by  dint  of  incessant 
tugging  and  pulling.  The  boys  crossed  the  slough, 
and  then  worked  their  way  along  the  shore,  where 
the  current  was  not  so  fierce.  Finally,  with  blistered 
hands  and  numb  wrists  they  glided  in  behind  the 
warehouse,  whence  they  had  started. 

The  dog,  overjoyed,  jumped  out  first;  with  a  grunt 
of  relief,  they  followed. 

"  Back,  are  you  ?  "  greeted  Commodore  Jones  (who 
sat  just  as  they  had  left  him)  when  they  approached 
with  the  oars. 

"  See  what  we  found,"  bade  Ned,  nodding  toward 
the  dog. 

"  Pointer  pup,  eh  ? "  said  the  commodore. 
"  Where'd  you  get  him  ?  " 

"  Somebody  had  left  him  in  a  barn  half  under 
water,"  informed  Hal ;  "  on  Eagle." 

"  You  don't  say ! "  responded  the  commodore, 
pityingly.  "  Sech  a  man  ain't  fit  to  have  a  dog. 
You'd  better  keep  him." 

"  We're  going  to,"  answered  the  boys,  in  unison. 

"  What  will  we  do  about  him  ? "  asked  Ned,  as 
they  were  walking  homeward.  "  Shall  we  draw  lots 
to  see  which  '11  take  him  ?  " 

"  N-n-no,"  responded  Hal,  reluctantly.  "  You  can 
have  him.  My  mother  says  she  won't  allow  a  dog 
about,  or  else  I'd  have  had  one  long  ago." 


2o  Beaufort  Chums 

"  That's  too  bad,"  sympathized  Ned.  "  At  our 
house  we  all  like  dogs — at  least,  mother  does  if  they 
don't  dig  up  her  flowers." 

"  You  ought  to  call  him  Robinson  Crusoe — 
Crusoe  was  wrecked  on  an  island,  you  know,"  sug- 
gested Hal. 

"  Or  '  Bob '  for  short,"  cried  Ned,  the  idea  appeal- 
ing to  him.  "  All  right — you  name  him  and  I'll  have 
him." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  admitted  Hal,  ruefully. 

When  they  parted  at  the  street  corner,  the  dog 
hesitated,  uncertain  which  to  accompany. 

"  Come  on,  Bob,"  called  Ned. 

And  Bob,  quickly  deciding,  followed  him. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  GREAT  LUMBER  FIRE 

THE  river  went  down  as  rapidly  as  it  had 
come  up,  but  left  upon  the  clap-boards  of  the 
Diamond  Jo  warehouse  a  line  of  mud  in 
token  of  its  visit.  People  in  the  low-lying  portions 
of  the  city  hastened  to  move  back  into  their  accus- 
tomed quarters,  now  soaked  by  the  flood.  Many  a 
cellar  was  pumped  out.  And  at  the  levee  Commo- 
dore Jones'  flock  of  skiffs  was  once  more  tethered  in 
its  usual  place  before  the  little  boat-house. 

Much  to  Ned's  disgust  the  eleven  loads  of  wood 
arrived  promptly  at  the  Miller  premises — eleven  great 
loads  of  wet  slabs,  making  a  mountain  higher  than 
the  alley  fence,  and  filling  all  the  space  between  the 
wood-shed  and  the  next  back-yard  ! 

These  slabs  were  to  be  loosely  laid,  one  upon  an- 
other, in  long,  parallel  piles,  so  that  the  air  could 
circulate  freely  between  them.  When  the  wood  had 
dried,  it  was  to  be  split,  and  put  in  the  shed,  for  use. 

It  seemed  to  Ned  an  endless  task,  to  dispose  of 
such  a  mass,  stick  by  stick.  However,  he  had 
accomplished  it  in  previous  summers,  and  although 
each  June  it  loomed  into  sight  afresh,  yet  somehow 
by  pegging  away  he  managed  to  struggle  through  it. 

Having  for  several  days  dolefully  eyed  the  moun- 

21 


22  Beaufort  Chums 

tain,  on  the  morning  of  the  Saturday  succeeding  the 
Bob  rescue  he  began,  with  a  groan,  the  base  of  his 
first  pile.  But  he  knew  that  groaning  was  of  no  use  ; 
he  was  expected  to  devote  this  Saturday  morning, 
and  the  next  Saturday  morning,  and  two  hours  a  day 
during  the  coming  long  vacation,  to  the  work  until  it 
was  finished. 

Bob,  having  industriously  trotted  hither  and  thither 
through  the  yard,  and  having  gazed  right  and  left 
along  the  street,  in  search  for  amusement,  came  and 
sat  on  his  haunches  near  Ned,  and  with  a  puzzled, 
wondering  expression,  surveyed  his  movements. 

A  week  had  effected  quite  a  change  in  Bob's  ap- 
pearance. The  warm  welcome  which  he  had 
received  at  the  Miller  home,  and  the  food  and  petting 
which  he  was  being  accorded,  already  had  slicked  his 
coat,  and  covered  his  ribs.  That  confidence  in 
humanity  which  he  had  lost  while  confined  in  the 
barn  on  Eagle  Island,  now  had  returned  to  him.  He 
was  a  very  happy  dog. 

For  a  few  moments  he  watched  Ned  intently. 
Presently,  getting  no  encouragement  to  frolic,  and 
doubtless  disgusted  that  upon  such  a  bright  morning 
his  master  should  be  given  to  so  stupid  an  employ- 
ment, he  curled  up  in  the  sun,  against  the  wood-shed, 
and  fitfully  dozed — one  eye  at  a  time,  in  order  that 
he  might  be  on  the  alert,  should  something  happen. 

And  something  did  happen  ! 

Bob  had  been  napping  for  but  half  an  hour  when 
suddenly  the  unearthly  shriek  of  the  fire-whistle 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  23 

pierced  the  still  air.  The  Beaufort  fire-whistle  was  a 
most  appalling  sound — running  up  and  down  the 
scales,  at  one  instant  a  shrill  tremulo,  at  another  a 
deep  bass.  Under  favorable  conditions  it  could  be 
heard,  folks  claimed,  fifteen  miles ! 

With  the  first  note  Ned  poised  in  his  hands  the 
slab  which  he  was  transferring  from  heap  to  pile,  and 
waited,  breathless,  to  see  whether  it  was  the  water- 
works' alarm,  or  only  a  steamboat.  With  the  second 
he  dropped  his  slab,  and  straightened.  Yes,  indeed, 
it  was  the  fire-whistle !  Bob  lifted  his  nose,  and 
howled  vigorously.  This  was  the  influence  of  the 
whistle  upon  all  dogs  within  ear-shot :  it  made  them 
howl  and  howl,  but  nobody  knew  why. 

Ned  scanned  the  horizon.  In  the  southeast,  top- 
ping the  maples  which  bordered  either  side  of  the 
street,  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  huge  cloud  of  black 
smoke,  sluggishly  unfolding  and  spreading. 

The  spectacle  electrified  him.  In  a  second  he  and 
Bob  were  rushing  wildly  through  the  yard,  and  out 
of  the  front  gate. 

"  It's  the  lumber  yards — it's  Mosher's  lumber 
yards  !  "  he  cried,  to  his  mother,  who  was  standing, 
anxious-faced,  on  the  porch. 

"  Oh,  Ned  !  "  she  exclaimed. 

No  more  wood  piling  on  that  day ! 

The  pretty,  modest  resident  street  was  all  astir. 
Heads  popped  from  windows,  voices  called  and 
answered,  and  young  and  old  hastened  upon  walk  or 
horse-block,  or  into  the  road. 


24  Beaufort  Chums 

"  It's  Mosher's  lumber  yards  !  "  was  repeated,  from 
lot  to  lot,  and  from  corner  to  corner. 

The  bell  of  the  Congregational  church  pealed  forth 
its  clamorous  warning. 

Two  streams  of  people  were  set  in  motion — the  one 
flowing  tumultuously  toward  the  cloud  of  smoke,  the 
other  speeding  frantically  for  the  nearest  hose  house, 
headquarters  of  the  Pole  Star  Volunteers. 

Ned,  with  Bob  barking  and  leaping  about  him,  fell 
in  with  the  latter  current.  Very  soon,  you  may  be 
sure,  he  arrived  at  the  hose  house.  He  found  a 
large  throng  of  men  and  boys  collected  before  the 
door. 

"  Where's  the  key  ?  They  can't  find  the  key ! "  he 
heard  announced  from  every  side. 

The  town  marshal  mounted  the  steps  of  the  out- 
side stairs,  so  that  he  could  look  over  the  crowd. 

"  Does  any  one  know  where  the  key  is  ?  "  he  bel- 
lowed, searching  the  faces  of  the  jostling  mob  which 
brimming  with  excitement,  was  constantly  in- 
creasing. 

"  Where's  the  key  ?  Who  knows  where  the  key 
is  ?  "  echoed  the  people,  to  each  other,  screaming  the 
query  as  loud  as  they  could. 

"  I  know — it's  hanging  behind  the  door  in  Fleisch- 
mann's  grocery ! "  volunteered  a  youngster  of  ten 
years,  barefooted,  in  faded  blue  overalls  and  dingy 
checked  waist.  And  off  he  scurried,  importance 
showing  in  every  flap  of  his  overalls  against  his  bare 
ankles. 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  25 

"  It's  in  Fleischmann's  grocery — the  boy's  gone  to 
get  it,"  volleyed  a  chorus,  to  the  marshal. 

"  Here  it  comes ! "  was  shouted,  in  a  moment. 
"  Let  the  lad  through — you  fellows  out  there  !  " 

A  dozen  hands  reached  to  grasp  the  urchin  by  the 
shirt  and  pull  him  ahead. 

"  Pass  up  the  key,"  ordered  the  marshal. 

"  But  I  ain't  got  it — it  wasn't  there,"  explained  the 
boy,  as  rapidly  as  he  could.  "  They  said  they  didn't 
have  it  any  more  !  " 

"  Sold  it  for  old  iron,  I  bet  you,"  remarked  a  joker. 
His.  hearers  laughed,  and  as  this  hit  at  Fleischmann 
went  from  mouth  to  mouth  guffaws  went,  too. 

"  Break  in  the  door  !  Bust  the  padlock  !  "  sug- 
gested a  stout,  white-aproned  man — Schmidt,  the 
butcher. 

"  Smash  a  window  and  climb  in,"  suggested  some- 
body else. 

"  What  good  would  that  do  ? "  inquired  Mr. 
Schmidt,  scornfully. 

"  Here's  the  key — here's  the  key  !  "  arose  the  cry, 
and  the  throng  eddied  and  swirled  as  a  man  elbowed 
his  path  through  to  the  door,  and  applied  a  key  to 
the  lock. 

The  crowd  pressed  forward  when,  with  an  impa- 
tient motion,  the  man  jerked  open  the  padlock,  and 
hurled  aside  the  sliding  door.  So  many  zealous  help- 
ers offered  themselves  that  much  confusion  resulted. 

"  Keep  out !  Keep  out !  Hang  it  all,  give  us 
room ! " 


26  Beaufort  Chums 

The  mass  upon  the  threshold  separated  violently  to 
right  and  left,  and  out  from  the  dim,  cool  interior 
(smelling  strongly  of  damp  rubber)  was  rolled  the 
cart,  guided  by  every  person  who  could  lay  finger 
upon  it. 

Ere  it  had  fairly  emerged  additional  hands  fought 
for  the  privilege  of  grasping  the  ropes  attached  to  it. 
Shoved  and  buffeted  and  trod  upon,  Ned  squirmed 
into  the  thick  of  the  struggle,  and  was  rewarded  by 
feeling  his  fingers  close  upon  a  rope.  But  what  was 
his  position  he  did  not  know. 

Now  the  cart  burst  away  from  the  mob,  and  into 
the  street.  With  a  whoop  and  a  hurrah,  clangor  of 
gong  and  tooting  of  trumpet,  up  the  thoroughfare  it 
trundled,  drawn  by  two  long  lines  of  people — youth 
and  age  yoked  in  a  common  cause.  Those  unlucky 
and  envious  people  who,  owing  to  lack  of  space,  were 
denied  a  place  in  the  team,  valiantly  formed  a  runr 
ning  escort. 

As  it  happened,  Ned  had  been  particularly  favored 
when  he  had  grabbed  the  rope,  for  his  place  was  just 
behind  the  leader.  This  leader  was  "  Sandy  "  Bax- 
ter, Beaufort's  foot-racer.  He  headed  the  two  lines, 
and  set  the  pace ;  next  came  Ned,  on  the  right,  and 
Tom  Walker,  the  attorney,  on  the  left.  Who  fol- 
lowed, Ned  did  not  have  time  to  see.  He  had  all  he 
could  do  to  hold  his  own,  and  not  prove  a  drag. 
However,  hold  it  he  did,  for  he  was  the  best  runner 
among  all  the  boys  of  his  neighborhood,  and  he  had 
a  reputation  to  sustain. 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  27 

Furthermore,  plain  in  view,  straight  down  the 
street,  was  that  ominous  volume  of  smoke,  ever  swell- 
ing, like  the  terrible  breath  of  a  volcano.  Wasn't 
that  enough  to  spur  any  boy's  legs  ?  Certainly ! 

"  Sandy  "  seemed  not  to  care  whether  or  not  his 
team-mates  could  keep  up  with  him.  He  started  in 
at  a  tremendous  gait,  and  he  did  not  abate  it  in  the 
slightest.  He  had  no  mercy.  The  lumber  yards 
were  burning  ! 

Along  the  ropes  short-winded  persons  began  to 
fall  out ;  some,  grown  clumsy  through  their  exer- 
tions, stumbled  on  the  heels  of  their  file-leaders,  thus 
promoting  disorder  and  profanity. 

"  Spurt  her  up  !  All  together  !  "  urged  the  mar- 
shal, amid  the  lines. 

"  Hurroo  !  Hurroo  !  "  responded  his  associates, 
with  failing,  husky  voices. 

A  loosened  tire  of  the  cart  rattled  loudly. 

"  Clang !  "  sounded  the  rusty,  cracked  gong,  at 
every  turn  of  the  wheels. 

"  Bow  wow  !  Wow,  wow,  wow  !  "  yelped  Bob  and 
several  other  canine  enthusiasts,  outstripping,  now 
and  then,  the  whole  crew,  and  halting,  with  lolling 
tongue,  for  it  to  catch  up. 

The  cart  had  been  hauled,  in  this  manner,  three 
blocks,  when  on  a  sudden  an  empty  lumber-wagon 
dashed  athwart  its  course,  and  came  sharply  to  a 
standstill. 

"  Pass  the  ropes  aboard,  boys,"  commanded  the 
marshal.  "  Quick  !  " 


28  Beaufort  Chums 

The  ropes  were  thrown  into  the  wagon-box,  were 
rudely  fastened,  the  marshal  and  "  Sandy  "  Baxter 
clambered  in  to  watch  them.  "  All  right !  "  called  a 
score  of  voices ;  the  driver  leaned  forward  from  his 
seat  and  lashed  his  steeds,  and  very  nearly  before  the 
cart  had  stopped  it  was  once  more  upon  its  way,  this 
time  attached  to  the  jolting,  swaying  wagon  drawn 
at  a  gallop  by  the  heavy  horses. 

The  folk  whose  occupation  had  thus  been  taken 
from  them  pursued  as  best  they  might. 

Ned,  panting  but  determined,  lustily  labored  on  in 
the  wake  of  the  cart,  Bob  loping  beside  him.  The 
smoke  cloud  waxed  larger  and  larger.  They  could 
see  an  immense  swarm  of  people  collected  apparently 
beneath  it,  and  could  hear  a  medley,  now  faint,  now 
quite  distinct,  of  shouts  and  cries. 

The  Congregational  church  bell  was  ringing  with- 
out stop — just  as  if  by  this  time  all  Beaufort  was  not 
thoroughly  aroused  and  bound,  helter-skelter,  for  the 
scene  ! 

Five  minutes  more,  and  — 

"  Gee-whiz  !  "  gasped  Ned,  transfixed  with  amaze- 
ment. 

He  had  reached  his  goal.  Immediately  before 
him  lay  the  lumber  yards.  Over  them  rested  that 
black  canopy  which  had  been  visible  from  afar,  and 
which,  from  a-near,  was  seen  to  be  licked  by  leaping 
flames.  The  air  was  pungent  with  the  odor  of 
scorched  pine.  On  this  side  of  the  railroad  tracks 
which  skirted  the  yards,  at  the  north,  were  the  on- 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  29 

lookers  ;  men,  women  and  children — packing  every 
vacant  spot,  occupying  every  point  of  vantage.  Be- 
yond the  tracks,  among  the  very  piles,  were  the  fire- 
fighters, like  groups  of  pigmies  attacking  a  blaze- 
vomiting  giant. 

Above  the  feverish  cries  of  the  spectators,  above 
the  hoarse  shouts  of  the  firemen,  sounded  the  crackle 
and  roar  of  the  conflagration. 

The  entire  district  south  of  the  tracks  seemed 
doomed  to  be  wiped  out.  Here,  in  the  Mosher 
yards,  were  thousands  upon  thousands  of  feet  of  dry 
lumber.  The  fire  fairly  flew  from  pile  to  pile,  and  so 
intense  was  the  heat  that  the  pitchy  material  appeared 
to  break  into  flames  all  at  once,  from  within. 

East  of  the  yards  was  the  river  ;  but  west  was  that 
section  of  the  town  known  as  South  Beaufort,  made 
up,  mostly,  of  the  homes  of  mill  men  and  railroad 
men.  Fine  opportunity  did  these  houses,  close  to- 
gether and  lightly  constructed,  offer  to  the  fire  ! 

At  the  outset  little  wind  had  been  blowing ;  but 
the  fire  was  creating  a  draft,  forming  a  vortex  into 
which  poured  the  cool  air  in  a  regular  gale.  Enor- 
mous cinders  whirled  high  aloft,  to  stream  down 
everywhere.  The  whole  town  was  endangered  by 
them. 

"  Here  comes  Hal,"  knocked  Bob  with  his  tail 
against  his  master's  leg. 

"  Hello,  Bob,"  called  Hal,  who  was  making  for 
them  through  the  crowd. 

"  Oh,  Hal,  isn't  this  awful !  "  greeted  Ned. 


30  Beaufort  Chums 

"  I  should  say  so  ! "  replied  Hal.  "  Let's  climb 
up  on  top  of  those  box-cars,  where  we  can  see 
better." 

So  they  dodged  over  to  some  box-cars  standing 
on  the  tracks  which  branched  northward,  along  the 
river,  and  secured  seats  from  which  they  had  a  view 
unobstructed  by  irritating  heads  and  hats.  Other 
persons  had  preceded  them,  but  there  was  plenty  of 
room,  and  dangling  their  feet  down  the  end  of  a 
car  they  proceeded  to  watch  and  wait.  Bob,  after  a 
number  of  fruitless  efforts  to  scale  the  side  of  the  car, 
sat  on  the  ground  and  watched  and  waited,  too. 
However,  he  was  interested  in  the  two  boys,  more 
than  in  the  fire. 

"  There's  just  dray- load  after  dray-load  of  goods 
being  hauled  out  of  South  Beaufort,"  said  Hal.  "  I 
was  over  a  while.  The  people  are  scared,  I  tell 
you !  " 

"  Let's  go  and  help,"  suggested  Ned,  stung  by  the 
idea. 

"No  use,"  responded  Hal.  "They  can't  get 
wagons  enough,  for  love  or  money,  to  take  what 
stuff  is  scattered  round,  already." 

"  Say — if  the  fire  ever  gets  into  South  Beaufort,  it 
will  cross  the  tracks,  sure,  and  then — um-m-m  !  "  ex- 
claimed Ned,  shaking  his  head 

"  Then  the  whole  town  will  burn  !  "  faltered  Hal, 
his  face  paling. 

At  this  instant  they  perceived  among  the  throng 
which  they  had  just  left  a  bustle  of  excitement. 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  31 

Then  came  to  their  ears  a  cheer,  and  another,  and 
another  ;  then  a  continuous  uproar. 

Everybody  upon  the  box-cars  stood  up  to  peer 
and  wonder. 

"  It's  the  fire  department  from  Sundale  !  See  ! 
Hurrah !  Hurrah  !  "  shouted  Hal,  swinging  his  hat. 

"  Hurrah !  "  chimed  in  Ned,  and  all  the  others. 

Sundale  was  the  neighboring  village — a  rival  save 
in  time  of  need  like  this — two  miles  northward. 
Down  the  street,  nearer  and  nearer,  welcomed  by 
cheer  after  cheer,  came  the  two  carts,  their  plunging 
horses,  foam-flecked  by  their  long  run,  exerting  their 
last  energy  in  one  final  spurt ;  down,  down,  "  clang ! 
clang !  clang  !  "  straight  through  the  living  lane  and 
across  the  tracks.  Hurrah  ! 

"  Bully  for  Sundale ! "  cried  Ned. 

"  You  bet !  "  agreed  Hal ;  and  none  disputed. 

"  I  hope  they'll  do  some  good,"  he  added.  "  But, 
oh,  look  at  it  now,  will  you  ! " 

The  sight  was  superb,  but  it  was  frightful.  Even 
during  the  short  time  that  the  boys  had  been  on  the 
car  the  fire  had  increased  shockingly.  It  did  not 
seem  to  jump  from  the  top  of  one  pile  to  another, 
but  it  seemed  to  devour  entire  piles  at  a  gulp. 
Piles  fifty,  seventy,  ninety  feet  high  disappeared 
in  a  twinkling.  Their  boards  curled  and  withered 
like  leaves,  as  the  fury  of  the  fiery  blast  sucked 
them  in. 

"  What's  the  use  of  standing  off  and  squirting  at 
it !  "  grumbled  Ned.  "  They  aren't  stopping  it !  " 


32  Beaufort  Chums 

"  And  they  can't  get  close  enough  to  reach  it— 
and  if  they  could  the  water  would  turn  to  steam  be- 
fore it  struck  !  "  said  Hal.  "  I — I  guess  I  ought  to 
go  home,  Ned." 

He  was  almost  crying,  and  his  voice  ended  in  a 
despairing  little  wail.  Ned,  too,  felt  a  queer  thrill  of 
helplessness  ;  but  he  answered,  stoutly : 

"  Pshaw,  Hal ;  they'll  stop  it  some  way.  They 
must,  you  know." 

"  But  Chicago  burned  up,  Ned,"  quavered  Hal. 
"  You  needn't  go — your  house  wouldn't  burn  until 
after  ours.  So  you  can  stay,  if  you  want  to.  My 
mother  is  scared  to  death " 

«  Boom ! " 

"  Listen !     What  is  that !  "  interrupted  Ned. 

"  Boom  !  " 

"  They're  blowing  up  the  piles  with  dynamite !  " 
asserted  Ned,  exultantly.  "  There's  another  !  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  will  help  ? "  queried  Hal, 
doubtfully. 

"  Of  course,"  assured  Ned.  "  It's  the  only  way. 
It  will  keep  the  fire  from  spreading,  and  make  it 
burn  down  low  where  they  can  put  it  out  with 
the  hose.  See?  They're  blowing  up  the  piles  on 
the  South  Beaufort  side.  Then  if  they  stop  the 
fire  from  getting  past  the  open  space  they've  got 
it !  Who  cares  for  the  lumber,  so  long  as  the  houses 
don't  catch !  And  it  can't  come  this  way,  for  the 
tracks  are  too  wide,  here,  and  south  of  it  they  can 
blow  up  more  piles  and  stop  it." 


The  Great  Lumber  Fire  33 

Ned's  tones  were  so  confident  that  Hal  brightened, 
and  said  nothing  farther  about  leaving. 

Besides,  new  distractions  occurred.  Over  the  rail- 
road bridge  thundered  a  locomotive,  twitching  behind 
it  a  single  flat  car,  and  whistling  long  and  shrill. 

"  Hartville  !     It's  from  Hartville  !  "  flew  the  report. 

"  Hurrah  for  Hartville ! "  cheered  the  spectators, 
the  thousand  voices  drowning  the  shrieks  of  the 
proud  engine. 

"Well,"  remarked  Ned.  "People  in  the  other 
towns  must  think  we're  all  burned. 

"  But  isn't  it  fine  in  them  to  send  help  ! "  exclaimed 
Hal. 

"  We'd  do  as  much  for  them,"  responded  Ned. 

Scarcely  had  the  Hartville  men  arrived,  when  from 
up  the  river  echoed  the  deep,  excited  whistle  of  a 
steamboat.  The  crowd  turned  its  faces  that  way. 

"  It's  the  ferry  Lady  Rose.  She's  bringing  the 
Lynnton  department !  "  exclaimed  Hal. 

Down  swept  the  ferry,  the  black  smoke  streaming 
from  her  stacks  and  trailing  behind  her  in  two  tossing, 
ever-expanding  plumes  ;  her  side-wheels  turning  at  a 
prodigious  rate ;  and  her  deck  alive  with  people  who 
answered  cheer  with  cheer. 

The  Lady  Rose  effected  a  hasty  landing  just  above 
the  bridge,  and  her  passengers,  fire-laddies  and  spec- 
tators, tumbled  -ashore.  Then  followed  two  hose- 
carts  ;  and  right  on  the  heels  of  the  men  from  Hart- 
ville followed  the  men  from  Lynnton,  to  help  save 
the  town. 


34  Beaufort  Chums 

But  although  the  assistance  was  welcome,  now,  at 
last,  the  tide  had  been  stemmed.  A  wide  line  of 
lumber  piles  had  been  leveled,  cutting  off  the  flames 
in  their  mad  career.  A  little  wind  set  in  from  the 
west,  driving  the  fire  back  toward  the  river.  With 
hope  renewed  the  firemen  stubbornly  stood  their 
ground,  arrayed  between  the  angry  blaze  and  the 
homes  cowering  just  beyond. 

And  now  the  gallons  of  water  being  poured  into 
the  fire  commenced  to  have  an  effect.  Coals  sizzled 
and  blackened.  Embers  smouldered  and  died. 
Aided  by  the  good  wind,  step  by  step  the  firemen 
advanced. 

The  day  was  won. 

The  fire  lessened  in  volume ;  and  seeing  that  the 
danger  was  past,  the  people  who  had  watched  began 
to  slip  away. 

"  Come  on,"  said  Ned,  at  last.  "  We  might  as 
well  go.  It's  about  over." 

They  dropped  off  the '  car,  and  Bob,  who  had 
deemed  the  fire  a  very  dull  affair  (for  a  dog)  wel- 
comed them  loudly. 

"  My,  I'm  hungry ! "  declared  Hal.  "  I  wonder 
what  time  it  is." 

Whereupon  they  found  that  it  was  half-past  one ; 
much  after  dinner  time. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  BREAK- WATER  ACCIDENT 

ALTHOUGH  it  had  been  subdued,  and  was 
deprived  of  its  fangs,  the  fire  continued  to 
burn  for  several  days.     It  burrowed  deep  into 
the  sawdust,  and  lurked  amid  the  great  masses  of 
black  rubbish  where  once  had  been  lumber  and  lath, 
as  if  loth  to  leave  its  mangled  prey. 

The  out-of-town  firemen  returned  home  that 
evening,  but  all  that  night,  and  up  to  the  middle  of 
the  next  week,  the  Beaufort  department  kept  streams 
playing  upon  the  smoking  ruins. 

For  a  time  these  sorry-looking  yards  were  re- 
garded by  Bob  and  Ned  and  other  Beaufort  youth  as 
a  very  entertaining  place.  It  was  fun  to  explore  the 
desolate  area,  and  conjecture  what  had  been  on  this 
spot,  and  what  on  that.  No  small  spice  of  danger, 
too,  was  offered  by  the  tempting,  swaying  run-ways 
and  crumbling  piles.  But  at  length  the  sport  palled, 
and  the  Beaufort  boys  sought  elsewhere  for  amuse- 
ment and  occupation. 

In  regard  to  occupation,  Ned  did  not  have  to  seek 
far.  At  his  back  door-step  were  those  eleven  loads 
of  wood.  One  Saturday  had  come  and  gone,  and 
scarcely  an  impression  had  been  made  upon  the  grim 
mountain  of  slabs.  This  was  the  last  week  of  school ; 

35 


36  Beaufort  Chums 

another  Saturday,  and  then  he  must  pile  every  day 
until  he  had  performed  his  duty.  That  done  he 
would  be  free  to  do  about  as  he  pleased. 

Could  wishing  have  availed,  those  slabs  would  have 
been  in  Halifax  very  soon,  consigned  there  by  Ned. 
But  of  course  Mr.  Miller  would  have  promptly  or- 
dered eleven  more  loads,  and  since  in  Beaufort  were 
several  lumber  yards  to  draw  upon,  Ned's  case,  even 
were  Halifax  to  aid  him,  was  hopeless. 

He  did  what  any  sensible  boy  would  have  done ; 
he  pitched  into  the  wood,  working  after  school  and 
all  day  Saturday,  and  by  the  opening  of  the  vacation 
he  had  dug  a  great  cave  in  the  flank  of  the  mountain. 
Like  the  majority  of  tasks,  this  one,  when  stoutly 
tackled,  was  not  so  big  as  it  had  appeared. 

In  regard  to  the  amusement,  this  never  could  be 
lacking  while  the  river  flowed  past  the  town.  The 
warm  rains  and  sun  of  the  spring  had  taken  the  chill 
from  the  water,  and  had  made  it  almost  comfortable 
for  swimming,  when  down  had  rushed  the  freshet, 
with  its  icy  flood  of  melted  snow,  and  had  spoiled 
matters.  Now  the  Mississippi  was  again  at  its  or- 
dinary level,  and  under  the  influence  of  the  summer 
weather  was  rapidly  assuming  an  agreeable  tempera- 
ture. 

By  the  wireless  telegraphy  of  boyhood  the  news 
that  there  was  "  good  swimming  "  traversed  Beaufort 
from  end  to  end. 

Ned,  who  had  been  fuming  all  the  spring  because 
his  father  had  refused  to  let  him  go  in  until  the  water 


The  Break-Water  Accident        .     37 

was  warmer,  and  thus  had  deprived  him  of  the  glory 
of  being  among  the  first,  received  the  tidings  with  re- 
joicing. Surely,  June  was  not  too  early  for  bath- 
ing! 

Bob  was  more  callous  about  the  news.  You  see, 
already  he  had  indulged  in  a  number  of  plunges,  not 
to  speak  of  the  dive  from  the  barn  window ;  therefore 
his  enthusiasm  had  cooled. 

"  Can't  I  go  swimming  now,  father  ? "  begged 
Ned,  immediately  upon  hearing  the  reports.  "  All  the 
fellows  have  been  in  and  they  say  the  water  is  just  as 
warm  as  milk  !  If  you'd  only  stick  your  hand  in  it 
you'd  see,  yourself." 

"  I  haven't  had  much  of  a  chance  to  '  stick  my 
hand  in  it/  yet,  considering  that  my  arm  isn't  four 
blocks  long — and  that  is  the  nearest  I  have  been  to 
the  river,  lately,"  replied  Mr.  Miller,  laughing. 
"  But  if  '  all  the  fellows  '  say  so,  it  must  be  true." 

"  Hal's  father  has  let  him  go,"  argued  Ned, 
eagerly. 

"  I've  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Lucas's  notions — 
nor  have  they  anything  to  do  with  me,  Ned,"  re- 
sponded Mr.  Miller.  "  The  Miller  affairs  give  me  all 
that  I  can  attend  to.  However,  I  guess,  if  you'll  be 
careful  and  not  stay  in  too  long,  you  can  go  ahead." 

"  And  don't  get  in  where  it's  deep,"  cautioned 
Mrs.  Miller. 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  mother  !  "  replied  Ned.  "  Six  feet  is 
as  bad  as  a  mile — and  it's  easier  swimming  where  it's 
real  deep,  too." 


38  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Well,  I  hate  to  have  you  go,"  said  his  mother, 
stroking  his  hair.  "  You  promise  to  be  very  careful, 
won't  you,  and  not  bathe  so  often  or  stay  in  so  long 
that  it  makes  you  weak,  or " 

"  Yes,  mother.  Don't  you  be  afraid,"  he  answered, 
giving  her  a  hearty  hug. 

"  And  don't  neglect  that  wood,"  suggested  his 
father,  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  That's  for  mornings  ;  I  have  my  afternoons  *  off/  " 
called  back  Ned,  capering  out  of  the  house.  In  a 
second  he  stuck  his  head  in  through  a  window  and 
cried  :  "  I  nearly  forgot  to  say  '  thank  you,'  father, 
didn't  I?" 

"  I  believe  you  did,  Ned,"  assured  his  father ;  and 
Ned  vanished. 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  it  is  possible  that  the 
water  should  be  warm,  so  soon,"  declared  Mrs.  Mil- 
ler, anxiously,  to  her  husband. 

"  I,  either,"  he  replied,  smiling.  "  But  Ned  can 
stand  it  if  the  other  boys  can.  It  won't  hurt  him 
any." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  assented  Mrs.  Miller,  doubtfully. 

Well,  to  tell  the  fact,  the  water  was  not  especially 
warm,  in  spite  of  what  "  all  the  fellows  "  had  de- 
clared. It  was  as  warm  as  milk — but  that  must  have 
referred  to  old  milk,  not  fresh ;  perhaps  milk  which 
had  been  in  an  ice-box. 

At  least,  so  Ned  thought,  when  gingerly  he  started 
to  wade  out,  for  the  first  swim  of  the  season.  He 
stepped  in,  ankle-deep — and  his  toes  curled,  and  his 


The  Break- Water  Accident  39 

knees  shook,  and  with  a  hasty  exclamation  he  sprang 
back. 

"  Oh,  jump  in  all  at  once  !  "  urged  Hal.  "  Tisn't 
cold ;  it's  fine,"  and  he  paddled  around  to  show  his 
perfect  satisfaction. 

Ned  was  disappointed.  When,  on  the  way  over  in 
the  boat,  they  had  dabbled  with  their  fingers,  to  test, 
the  water  had  seemed  just  right ;  but  now — ugh  ! 

He  tried  again,  and  waded  manfully  until  in  above 
his  knees  ;  here  he  faltered.  The  other  boys,  who 
had  been  through  the  ordeal  and  were  happy,  began 
to  splash  him  with  chilling  drops,  so  that  his  naked 
body  shrank,  and  he  shivered  and  begged. 

"  I'm  coming !  I'm  coming ! "  he  chattered. 
"  Only  let  me  be,  a  minute." 

"  Then  wet  over  or  we'll  douse  you  !  "  threatened 
his  persecutors,  menacing  him,  in  a  half-circle. 

"  I  will !  I  will !  Quit !  Don't  you  see  I  am  ?  " 
implored  Ned,  wading  a  little  farther.  "  Gimme  a 
chance  to  wet  my  head  so  I  won't  have  cramp,  can't 
you  ?  " 

He  stopped,  and  raising  water  in  his  hands  dab- 
bled it  upon  his  chest  and  back  and  hair,  trying  to 
get  used  by  degrees  to  the  change.  To  his  fingers 
the  goose-flesh  on  him  felt  like  stubble ! 

Bob,  joining  forces  with  the  other  scoffing  specta- 
tors, raced  along  the  shallows  of  the  beach,  barking 
his  derision.  Great  cats  !  what  a  silly  boy  !  He  had 
been  in  and  out  of  the  water  a  dozen  times. 

Suddenly  Ned  drew  a  big  breath,  shut  his  eyes, 


40  Beaufort  Chums 

and  ducked  under,  sousing  himself  completely.  He 
emerged  choking,  staggering,  gasping,  while  his  com- 
panions, tickled  into  spasms  of  merriment,  wallowed 
and  shrieked. 

But  Ned  minded  not;  the  worst  was  past.  He 
boldly  lunged  ahead  for  a  swim,  and  the  water  was 
not  a  bit  cold. 

Beaufort  bathers  had  choice  of  three  favorite  re- 
sorts. First,  there  were  the  rafts,  brought  down  by 
the  steamboats  for  the  mills,  and  laid  up  against  the 
shore,  waiting  their  turn  to  be  sawed  into  lumber — 
and  slabs  for  Ned  to  pile !  Sometimes  their  outer 
edge  extended  clear  to  the  channel,  and  to  dive  from 
here  into  the  swift,  dusky  current  thirty  feet  in  depth 
was  tremendously  exhilarating.  When  you  came  to 
the  surface  you  were  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  below 
the  point  whence  you  had  started. 

At  the  lower  end  of  the  rafts  was  slack  water, 
where  you  could  swim  with  no  fear  of  being  carried 
away.  An  especially  good  feature  about  the  rafts 
lay  in  the  fact  that  the  logs  were  nice  and  clean,  and 
when  you  dressed  you  did  not  get  sand  in  your 
stockings. 

Second,  there  was  the  large  sand-bar  opposite  the 
upper  part  of  town.  In  low  water  this  bar  was 
enormous,  comprising  several  acres.  Its  foot  shelved 
rapidly,  so  that  you  could  dive  from  the  firm  brink 
into  six  feet  of  beautiful,  still  water.  The  bar  reached 
up-river,  it  seemed  forever ;  and  over  the  dry,  fine 
sand,  or  splattering  madly,  with  the  water  only  to 


The  Break- Water  Accident  41 

your  ankles  (keeping,  of  course,  a  sharp  lookout  for 
step-offs)  and  your  flat  soles  sending  the  sparkling 
drops  far  and  wide^you  could  run  around  until  tired. 
The  sand-bar  was  the  best  resort  of  the  three. 

In  very  low  water,  it  was  possible  to  wade  from  it 
to  the  mainland  on  the  Beaufort  side ;  and  to  swim 
to  the  other  mainland  was  no  trick  at  all,  if  you  knew 
the  shortest  route. 

Third,. there  was  the  sandy  beach  across  the  river. 
This  was  the  place  most  popular ;  for  although  the 
water  here  was  not  so  sweet  and  fresh  as  that  of  the 
rafts  and  bar,  the  beach  was  convenient,  safe,  and 
available  throughout  the  season. 

The  rafts  were  not  safe  for  the  weak  swimmer,  be- 
cause of  the  current ;  at  a  normal  stage  of  water  the 
bar  was  a  mere  uncertain  patch  ;  but  the  beach  was 
always  good-natured  and  ready. 

At  present  it  was  to  the  beach  that  Ned  and  his 
chums  went.  Off  the  rafts  the  water  was  decidedly 
frigid ;  the  sand-bar  was  just  beginning  to  show  its 
face,  covered  with  a  thin  coating  of  mud  left  by  the 
receding  freshet — and  how  cold  this  water  in  the 
middle  of  the  river  was  !  The  beach  now  held  open 
house  for  Beauforters,  young  and  old. 

The  boys  went  over  every  afternoon  in  Ned  and 
Hal's  scull-boat  and  in  skiffs.  The  entertainment 
afforded  by  the  beach  was  endless.  A  quarter  of  a 
mile  above,  a  point  of  land  jutted  out,  thus  throwing 
the  current  from  the  shore.  In  some  places  the  beach 
sloped  gently  ;  in  others  it  pitched  abruptly  into  the 


42  Beaufort  Chums 

water.  You  could  wade  or  you  could  dive,  or  you 
could  bravely  launch  yourself,  paddle  a  short  distance, 
and  if  you  had  aimed  exactly  right  you  could  then 
let  yourself  down  upon  a  shoal,  with  the  water  up  to 
your  neck,  and  the  undertow  tugging  at  your  feet. 
Or  you  could  swim  straight  out  until  into  the  current, 
and  turning  upon  your  back  could  deliciously  float 
along  as  far  as  you  deemed  prudent,  with  the  sky  over 
your  face,  and  the  shore  passing  in  review  in  the 
corner  of  an  eye,  and  the  saucy  waves  slapping  at 
your  nose. 

Between  times,  here  was  the  soft,  hot  sand  in  which 
to  roll  and  bask. 

Not  to  be  omitted  from  the  program  were  those 
times  when  a  rafter,  or  a  stern-wheeler  packet, 
ploughed  up  stream  (the  up-boats  raised  the  biggest 
swells),  spreading  in-shore  long  rollers  and  breakers 
whose  oncoming  was  rapturously  awaited  by  the 
bevy  of  bathers. 

*  The  beach  resort  was  so  well  rummaged  and  un- 
derstood, that  rarely  did  a  tragedy  occur  at  it,  and 
had  Ned  and  his  crowd  stayed  strictly  within  bounds 
they  would  not  have  met  with  this  experience  which 
is  about  to  be  related. 

On  an  afternoon  toward  the  last  of  June  they  were 
swimming  at  the  beach ;  two  boat-loads  of  them — 
Ned  and  Hal  and  Bob,  Frank  Dalby,  Sam  Dalrymple, 
Orrie  Lukes,  Tom  Pearce,  Phil  Ruthers,  Les  Porter, 
and  others.  They  had  been  skylarking  to  their 
hearts'  content ;  playing  tag,  leap-frogging  into  the 


The  Break-Water  Accident  43 

water,  or  diving  slily  and  catching  an  unsuspecting 
friend  around  the  ankles.  The  scull-boat  had  been 
capsized,  and  much  sport  was  found  in  coming  up 
under  it,  where  was  air-space  for  breathing,  and  hoot- 
ing for  the  benefit  of  the  outsiders.  The  packet  Pitts- 
burg,  which  had  the  reputation  of  making  the  highest 
waves  of  any  of  the  steamers  save  the  rafter  Reindeer, 
even  had  surged  by,  leaving  behind  her  swells  and 
joy.  ,;.vr 

All  was  peace  and  good  humor,  when  a  skiff  was 
descried  approaching. 

The  boys  glanced  only  carelessly  at  it,  until  Ned 
exclaimed : 

"  Say !     There  comes  the  South  Beaufort  gang ! " 

His  words  put  a  damper  upon  the  frolicking.  All 
gazed  uneasily,  and  fidgeted.  The  rough  boys  form- 
ing what  was  styled  the  "  South  Beaufort  gang  "  were 
their  regular  enemies. 

"  Well,  who  cares  ?  "  demanded  Tom  Pearce,  de- 
fiantly. 

"  That's  what  I  say,"  chimed  in  Les  Porter.  «  They 
don't  own  the  beach." 

"  No ;  but  they'll  try  to  run  us  off,"  asserted  Hal. 
"  Those  Sullivans  are  always  spoiling  for  a  fight,  and 
they  don't  fight  fair,  either." 

"  They  chaw  raw  beef  on  you,  and  paste  mud  at 
you,"  complained  Orrie  Lukes,  the  smallest  of  the 
party. 

"  Eight  of  them,"  remarked  Sam  Dalrymple,  who 
had  been  counting.  "  The  two  Sullivans,  and  the 


44  Beaufort  Chums 

Conners,  and  Big  Mike  Farr,  and  I  don't  know  who 
else." 

"  I  tell  you,  fellows,"  suggested  Ned ;  "  we  don't 
want  any  trouble — let's  go  down  to  the  breakwater 
and  fool." 

The  plan  met  with  some  grumbling  from  Tom  and 
Les  and  other  stubborn  spirits ;  but  it  won,  and 
dumping  their  clothes  into  their  skiff  they  made  a 
change  of  base,  wading  and  swimming  and  towing 
their  boats,  the  scull-boat  bottom  up. 

The  South  Beaufort  gang  did  not  follow  them,  but, 
disembarking  upon  the  beach,  went  in  swimming. 

The  breakwater  was  a  few  rods  down  stream.  It 
was  a  long,  stout  parapet  of  heavy,  square  timbers 
laid  end  to  end,  bolted  and  braced.  It  extended  up 
from  the  bridge,  parallel  with  the  shore,  for  two  hun- 
dred yards,  and  was  designed  to  aid  the  rafters  in 
sliding  their  rafts  through ;  it  held  the  rafts  off  from 
the  shore. 

Behind  it  was  water  more  or  less  shallow,  and  luke- 
warm from  the  sun.  In  front  of  it  was  deep  water, 
and  considerable  current. 

At  the  risk  of  getting  numerous  splinters  some  of 
the  boys  scaled  the  breakwater  by  running  up  the 
braces  planted  against  it  in  the  rear;  the  others 
amused  themselves  among  the  tiny  bays  and  inlets 
formed  between  it  and  the  shore  line.  Bob,  after 
vainly  trying  to  follow  Ned  to  the  top,  decided  that 
he  would  take  a  turn  through  the  near-by  woods. 

The  breakwater  was  amply  broad  enough  to  give 


The  Break-Water  Accident  45 

secure  footing.  The  boys  lolled  about  upon  it,  the 
sunshine  soaking  them  through  and  through,  and  the 
novelty  of  their  high  position  adding  to  the  fun. 

"  Come  on ;  let's  dive,  all  together,"  proposed  Ned, 
briskly  rousing  to  action. 

"  That's  right — all  together,"  seconded  Tom. 

Nobody  opposed,  and  the  six  of  them  stood  in  a 
row. 

"  I'll  count,  and  at '  three '  down  we  go,"  said  Ned. 
"  Make  ready " 

"  Sam  and  I  are  going  to  jump ;  because  when  we 
dive  head-first  we  get  water  up  our  nose,"  explained 
Phil  Ruthers. 

"  Aw,  it's  only  eight  or  ten  feet ! "  protested  Hal. 

"  Just  the  samee,  I'm  not  going  to  get  water  up  my 
nose,"  declared  Sam,  irritated. 

"  Make  ready,"  warned  Ned,  again ;  and  the  boys 
poised  for  the  plunge. 

"  One — two — three  !  "  cried  Ned. 

With  six  splashes,  almost  like  one,  they  struck  the 
water  and  disappeared,  the  four  divers  entering  in 
regulation  style,  but  Sam  and  Phil  upright,  each  with 
one  hand  closing  tight  his  precious  nose. 

In  a  moment  heads  bobbed,  one  after  another, 
above  the  surface,  their  owners  shaking  them  vigor- 
ously and  snorting  and  blowing,  while  lustily  swim- 
ming, hand  over  hand,  for  the  breakwater. 

This  the  boys  climbed  from  in  front  by  sticking 
their  toes  into  the  wide  cracks  between  the  lines  of 
timbers,  and  by  clinging  to  protruding  bolts.  Once 


46  Beaufort  Chums 

more  on  the  top,  they  were  resting,  and  chaffing 
when,  in  a  startled  tone,  Hal  exclaimed : 

"  Why — where's  Tom  ?  " 

Quite  so ;  where  was  Tom  ?  Six  figures  had  left 
the  breakwater,  but  only  five  were  upon  it  now ! 
The  boys  looked  at  each  other  inquiringly. 

"  Maybe  he's  with  the  other  crowd,"  volunteered 
Sam,  and  peering  over  he  called  down  to  ask.  Tom 
wasn't  there. 

"  Perhaps  he's  hiding,  to  scare  us,"  guessed  Frank 
Dalby,  weakly. 

«  No — Tom  wouldn't  do  that,"  asserted  Ned ;  and 
the  faces  of  the  boys  grew  pale.  "  He  must  be  down 
there  still ! "  leaning  over  and  scanning  the  placid 
current.  "  I  bet  he  never  came  up  !  Where  was  he 
standing  ?  " 

"  He  was  right  between  Hal  and  me,"  excitedly 
said  Phil.  "  Wasn't  he,  Hal  ?  And  I  stood  here- 
just  exactly,  because  I  remember  it  by  the  broken 
nut  on  this  bolt." 

"  Tom  !     Oh,  Tom  !  "  shouted  Frank,  hopelessly. 

No  answer.  The  news  had  passed  to  the  re- 
mainder of  the  bathers,  below,  and  a  buzz  of  fright- 
ened talk  arose. 

"  I'm  going  after  him,"  hurriedly  announced  Ned. 
"  You  fellows  watch  close.  I  reached  bottom  easy  be- 
fore." 

"  So  did  I,  so  did  I !  Let  me  go  !  I'll  go  !  "  came 
an  eager  chorus. 

"  I'm    first,"   replied  Ned,  with  dogged  firmness. 


The  Break-Water  Accident  47 

"  Get  out  of  the  way,  Hal !  If  I  find  him  you  fellows 
can  come  down  and  help." 

Placing  himself  a  little  above  where  Tom  had 
stood,  he  dived  with  all  his  might. 

In  a  few  kicks  he  brought  up  against  the  muddy 
bottom.  Groping  around  about  him  in  the  cold,  ray- 
less  regions,  he  suffered  the  current  to  bear  him 
slowly  along,  now  and  then  paddling  enough  to  keep 
himself  from  rising. 

He  felt  beneath  him  mud ;  nothing  but  mud ; 
slimy,  oozy,  freezing  mud  with  clam-shells  and  sticks 
and  rocks  embedded  in  it.  Then,  on  a  sudden,  his 
hands  felt  something  else — a  smooth,  not  unfamiliar 
object — it  was  a  leg — it  was  Tom  !  Yes,  Tom ! 

Ned's  heart  made  a  great  leap  of  joy.  With  Tom 
in  his  arms  he  shot  upward — it  seemed  an  endless 
journey — and  bursting,  exhausted,  but  exulting, 
reached  the  surface. 

The  instant  that  he  came  in  sight  the  boys — by 
this  time  the  breakwater  held  them  all — who  had 
been  watching  and  waiting,  saw  at  once  his  burden, 
and  swarmed  to  his  rescue.  They  towed  the  un- 
conscious Tom  through  a  gap  in  the  timbers,  and 
stretched  him  in  the  sun  upon  the  hot  sand,  and 
rubbed  him,  and  rolled  him,  and  worked  so  fiercely 
that  in  fifteen  minutes  he  showed  signs  of  life,  again. 

Another  fifteen,  and  he  moaned ;  at  which  Bob, 
who  was  much  moved  by  the  proceedings,  howled  in 
sympathy. 

When  he  was  able  to  sit  up  they  bound  his  head, 


48  Beaufort  Chums 

which  was  severely  cut,  dressed  him,  after  a  fashion, 
and  hurried  him  in  the  skiff  to  town,  Ned,  as  was 
fitting,  happily  nestling  beside  him,  and  the  scull-boat 
desperately  following  in  their  wake. 

A  doctor  sewed  up  Tom's  scalp,  and  it  is  a  ques- 
tion who  was  the  prouder — the  boys  of  Ned,  or  Tom 
of  his  ten  stitches. 

As  for  Ned,  himself — he  was  not  proud,  precisely ; 
rather,  he  was  thankful  and  satisfied. 

The  only  thing  that  occurred  to  mar  his  pleasure 
was  the  action  of  Zulette — called  Zu-zu — Tom's  little 
sister.  She  found  him  sitting  by  Tom's  chair,  that 
evening,  on  the  Pearce  front  porch;  and  with  an 
"  Oh,  Ned !  Aren't  you  brave !  "  she  ran  up  to  him, 
and  left  on  his  face  two  tears  and  a  kiss.  Then  she 
ran  into  the  house,  crying  as  hard  as  she  could  cry. 

Ned  wiped  his  cheek,  and  wished  that  she  wouldn't 
behave  so  silly.  To  be  kissed  by  a  girl — that  was 
too  much  !  And  why  was  she  crying,  when  Tom 
was  safe ! 

After  the  merits  of  the  various  theories  had  been 
well  argued,  it  was  generally  accepted  that  Tom  had 
received  his  cut  by  striking  a  sunken  pile.  However, 
no  one  went  down  into  the  water  to  see.  The  acci- 
dent put  an  end  to  diving  off  the  breakwater. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  CAMP  AT  DEEP  CREEK 

WHEN,  of  the  eleven  loads  of  wood,  about 
three  were  still  unpiled,  Ned  began  to  feel 
need  of  a  change  of  air.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  climate  of  Deep  Creek,  sixteen  miles 
down  the  river,  would  be  just  the  thing  for  him. 

In  short,  he  was  stricken  by  his  annual  violent  at- 
tack of  the  camping-out-fever — a  malady  very  popular 
during  the  summer,  in  Beaufort. 

Hal,  too,  was  taken  at  the  same  time.  The  symp- 
toms were  a  burning  desire  to  get  away  from  town, 
and  into  the  woods  ;  to  lie  around  in  old  clothes,  re- 
gardless of  time,  and  free  from  all  fuss ;  to  amuse 
oneself  as  one  pleased ;  to  be  lazy ;  to  be  uncivilized 
and  unwashed ;  to  row  a  boat,  which  is  fun,  instead 
of  to  pile  wood,  which  is  work. 

The  two  boys  compared  notes,  and  agreed,  Bob 
voting  "  yea,"  that  the  sooner  they  left,  the  better. 
Deep  Creek  appealed  to  both  as  the  proper  locality ; 
and  Bob,  it  goes  without  comment,  stood  ready  to 
follow  them  any  place. 

Hal,  whose  father  was  less  strict  as  to  chores  than 
was  Ned's,  was  used  to  dropping  into  the  Miller  back 
yard,  once  in  a  while,  mornings,  and  giving  Ned  the 
comfort  of  company  at  the  wood-pile.  This  light- 
ened Ned's  labors,  but  it  did  not  hasten  them,  for 

49 


50  Beaufort  Chums 

there  were  moments  when  the  talk  grew  so  interest- 
ing that  he  forgot  to  keep  the  slabs  moving. 

The  camping-out  fever  now  interfered  seriously 
with  the  progress  of  the  piling.  To  make  matters 
worse,  these  three  remaining  loads  were  the  most 
stubborn,  closely  packed  loads  conceivable.  So 
stubborn  were  they,  that  it  was  as  if  they  grew  each 
night,  and  thus  made  up  what  they  had  lost  during 
the  day ! 

Camping  details  all  had  been  discussed  and  settled, 
and  finally  Hal,  who  had  been  impatiently  awaiting 
the  last  hour  of  the  heap,  said  boldly  : 

"  Why  don't  you  ask  your  father  to  let  you  go 
anyway,  Ned,  and  tell  him  you'll  pile  the  rest  when 
you  come  home  ?  It  will  have  lots  of  time  to  dry 
before  winter  !  " 

"  He  won't,  I  know,"  replied  Ned,  sadly. 

"  Oh,  I  bet  he  will,"  insisted  Hal.  "  He  doesn't 
care  when  the  wood's  piled,  if  it's  only  dry  in  time." 

«  Well,  I'll  ask  him,"  sighed  Ned.  "  But  he  won't, 
I  know." 

He  mustered  his  courage,  and  at  the  table  that 
noon  he  hinted : 

"  Tom  Pearce  and  Joe  Cluny  and  a  lot  of  other 
fellows  went  camping  this  morning." 

"  Yes  ?  "  responded  his  father,  politely. 

"  I  wish  Hal  and  I  could  go,"  continued  Ned. 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  going,"  remarked  Mr. 
Miller.  "  I  thought  you  had  arranged  to  go  to  Deep 
Creek." 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  51 

41  I  mean,  I  wish  we  could  go  right  away,  when  fish- 
ing's good,"  explained  Ned,  squirming  in  his  chair. 

"  What  is  hindering  ?  "  inquired  his  father,  looking 
wondrous  ignorant. 

"  The  wood,"  faltered  Ned.  Then  he  blurted : 
"  Say — can't  I  finish  it  when  I  come  back  ?  It's  just 
a  little  bit." 

"  Neddie  !  "  reproved  his  mother.  "  The  idea  of 
addressing  your  father  with  '  say ' !  " 

"  Oh  !  The  wood  still  hangs  on,  does  it  ?  "  asked 
his  father,  innocently.  "  Well,  Ned,  since  it  is  *  just 
a  little  bit '  you  can  finish  it  up  to-morrow,  I  should 
think,  and  have  it  off  your  hands.  Besides,  don't 
you  remember  that  I  told  you  the  wood  must  be 
piled,  first,  and  the  camping  could  follow  ?  " 

"  Y-y-yes,"  admitted  Ned. 

"  If  Hal  is  in  such  a  hurry,"  added  his  mother, 
"  why  don't  you  suggest  to  him  that  he  might  help 
you  out  by  piling,  instead  of  hindering  you  by 
talking  ?  " 

Ned  lapsed  into  silence.  It  was  no  use  ;  the  con- 
versation had  ended  as  he  had  expected.  He  had 
only  proved  that  he  knew  his  father  much  better  than 
Hal  did. 

Yet,  although  Hal  had  failed  on  one  tack,  it  was 
he  who  really  brought  the  rescue,  after  all.  When, 
within  an  hour,  Ned  reported  to  him  the  failure  of 
plans  for  a  truce,  Hal  thought  an  instant,  and  sud- 
denly said : 

"  I   tell   you !     I'll   come   down   early  to-morrow 


$i  Btaufett  Cbums 

•otifcfeiftd  **H  JUMP  into  tfctit  wood  and  not  stop 


Aid  K>  tiiw  grort  t^kC  «o^  ^  douU  to  the  sur* 
*  woodl  thftlwt  sUb  tod  tm*  kid  In  pfcc* 
next 


Mftfe 


ranted  «T  bbnkfils  wni  pro 
MR.  MEttor  WHdte  Nt<  to  1 

fbr  extra  «rtkte«fcMiM&    Modiefs  seem  unable 
to    iM     l»wKttk  a  boy  tteeds>ia  that  line,,  when 


trundled  a  lull  whee«»rrow4oid  of 
to  the  Dfrnoad  Jo  warehouse; 
they  nfcaaad  uptown  to  buy  a  lot  of  CMMM  fi 
awl  coflee  and  sugar,  with  which  to  eke  out  the 

fcrar&ed 


en  wheeled  to  tiie 
left  to  do  but  to  wait 


now 


\  Ned-aw»\  you  going  to  have 

-'^  rrli  n  r^^ai 

,:.     >  . .  ^  v>%. 

LA-      L^"^^  nrii.  m+fn   rt  *.*.    ft    *^  «  B^M^I^b^  D^^h^  ^^ 

*>    ^  -  »  >. 

Thete^  a  shed  we  can  go  wadtf  if  it  rains,"* 

r>  in  dfr.an(y»  broke  the  news  to  her  hus- 
he  Ofcerdy  hiughed,  awl  saki  pitting  her 


it  hurt  Oieni  any.    \VhentheygeteDOogh 


54  Beaufort  Chums 

freight  having  been  cleaned  up,  the  Harriett  whistled 
for  the  bridge  to  open,  and  at  the  same  time  backed 
out. 

At  last  the  boys  were  off. 

Commodore  Jones  had  just  settled  himself  on  his 
little  platform,  for  a  morning  smoke,  and  running  up 
on  the  hurricane  deck,  they  leaned  out,  toward  him, 
as  they  passed,  and  called : 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Jones.     Want  any  fish?" 

"  Good-bye,"  he  shouted,  waving  his  pipe.  "  Yes  ; 
bring  'em — when  you  get  'em  ! " 

Through  the  draw  sped  the  Harriett,  and  on  past 
the  Mosher  Lumber  Mill  (disfigured  but  busy),  past 
Eagle  Island  (Bob  not  deigning  a  glance  at  his  old 
homeplace),  and  on,  with  a  stop  or  so,  until  soon  the 
Deep  Creek  landing  was  right  ahead. 

This  landing  was  at  a  government  light  upon  a 
small  peninsular.  A  few  rods  above,  the  Monga,  a 
shallow  but  wide  and  swift  stream,  emptied  into  the 
Mississippi,  and  to  reach  the  Deep  Creek  grounds  it 
was  necessary  to  cross.  People  who  had  no  skiff 
with  them  signaled  to  Joe  and  Sam,  fishermen  who 
lived  beside  the  creek,  to  come  and  ferry  them  over. 
Ned  and  Hal  and  Bob,  however,  had  the  scull-boat ; 
and  when  they  and  their  traps  and  their  craft  had 
been  dumped  ashore,  all  at  once,  and  the  Harriett 
was  fussily  hurrying  away,  they  lost  no  time  in  load- 
ing up  and  pushing  off. 

Now,  Deep  Creek  was  not  truly  a  creek.  It  was  a 
narrow  slough,  extending  parallel  with  the  Missis- 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  55 

sippi,  between  an  island  and  the  shore.  It  was  a 
popular  resort  for  fishing  parties,  and  a  number  of 
Beaufort  men  had  erected  a  little  cabin  beside  it,  for 
use  as  a  club-house. 

Having  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Monga  the  boys 
entered  the  slough.  Sam  and  Joe,  always  upon  the 
outlook  for  a  job  when  the  Harriett  was  due,  were 
standing  in  front  of  their  shanty,  and  opposite  them 
Hal  and  Ned  rested  on  their  oars,  to  ask : 

"  How's  fishing  ?  " 

"  Good,"  replied  the  brothers,  together. 

"  Anybody  else  down  here  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

Sam  and  Joe  shook  their  heads,  again  together. 
They  had  this  peculiarity,  possibly  from  being  so 
much  in  each  other's  company,  night  and  day.  One 
thought  appeared  to  do  for  both,  and  when  they 
spoke,  or  laughed,  or  wagged  their  heads,  they  did 
so  as  one  man !  Considering  that  they  lived  by 
themselves,  summer  and  winter,  in  their  shanty  on 
the  bank  of  the  slough,  the  wonder  is,  not  that  they 
grew  to  think  alike,  but  that  they  did  not  grow  to 
look  alike,  as  well ! 

Sam  had  red  hair  and  red  whiskers  and  a  red, 
freckled  skin ;  Joe  had  iron-gray  hair  and  whiskers, 
and  a  skin  tanned  deep  as  mahogany.  Sam  was 
quick-tempered;  Joe  was  easy-going.  Both  were 
reserved  in  manner  and  chary  of  words. 

The  boys  proceeded  up  the  slough  a  quarter  of  a 
mile,  and  landed.  Here  they  pitched  their  camp  by 
tucking  their  boxes  under  a  wild-grape  arbor  at  the 


56  Beaufort  Chums 

water's  edge,  and  sitting  upon  them.  The  sun  was 
high,  and  the  thick  shade  of  the  arbor  was  an  agree- 
able relief  from  the  hot  row  along  the  glassy  bayou. 

"This  is  better  than  any  tent,"  declared  Ned. 
"  Isn't  it !  " 

"  Lots  ! "  responded  Hal,  with  enthusiasm.  "  Now 
let's  set  our  trot-lines." 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Ned. 

Bob  took  no  part  in  this  conversation.  While  yet 
the  scull-boat  had  been  six  feet  from  the  bank  he  had 
leaped  over  the  bows,  and  half-swimming,  half- wad- 
ing, had  scrambled  ashore,  to  disappear  in  the  woods. 
Probably  his  doggy  mind  was  bent  upon  discovering 
a  nice  camping  spot,  in  advance  of  his  chums.  But 
he  must  have  missed  the  grape-arbor  and  his  chance, 
for  here  was  the  camp — and  no  Bob  ! 

Fumbling  in  one  of  the  boxes  Ned  pulled  out  the 
trot-lines,  rolled  in  two  big  balls,  and  the  bunch  of 
hooks  to  be  attached,  and  a  large  slab  of  liver  for 
bait.  Then  he  and  Hal  started  off  again  in  the  scull- 
boat. 

"  Trot-lines  "  are  long  lines  to  which  fish-hooks  are 
hung,  at  near  intervals,  by  pieces  of  cord.  Some 
trot-lines  are  strung  with  a  hundred  or  two  hundred 
hooks.  The  boys'  lines  were  only  three  hundred 
feet  in  length,  and  they  counted  on  hanging  fifty 
hooks  to  each.  The  trot-lines  were  the  size  of  win- 
dow-cord, or  braided  clothes-line,  and  had  been 
tarred  so  that  they  should  not  rot. 

Ned  and  Hal  slowly  sculled  up  the  slough,  keeping 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  57 

their  eyes  open  for  good  places  at  which  to  set  out 
their  lines.  Presently  they  came  to  an  old  raft — or, 
rather,  but  a  portion  of  a  raft — lying  along  the  island 
side  of  the  bayou.  It  must  have  been  in  Deep  Creek 
for  years,  because  the  logs  were  green  with  mossy 
growth.  It  was  a  peaceful  old  raft,  dozing  here,  for- 
gotten, with  one  edge  high  and  dry  among  the  island 
brush,  and  the  other  edge  well  out  into  the  slough. 

«  Say — we  can  tie  the  lines  to  the  raft ! "  proposed 
Ned,  struck  with  the  idea. 

"  I  should  smile  !  "  assented  Hal,  slangily. 

"  One  above  and  one  below,"  continued  Ned. 
"  Let's  fix  the  upper  one  first." 

As  they  skirted  the  outer  logs,  on  ahead  of  them 
turtles,  sunning  themselves,  slid  hastily  into  the  water, 
and  the  route  of  the  boat  was  thus  marked  by  a  suc- 
cession of  splashes. 

The  boys  were  nearing  the  head  of  the  raft,  when 
Ned  stopped  sculling,  and  asked : 

"  What's  the  matter  with  this  ?  " 

"  It's  about  right,  I  guess,"  replied  Hal.  "  We 
can  tie  to  that  pin." 

"  Well,"  said  Ned,  «  I'll  hold  the  boat  steady,  and 
you  fix  the  line." 

He  turned  the  boat  in  hard  against  a  log  from 
which  jutted  a  stout  wooden  pin  almost  touching  the 
water.  Hal,  reaching  over  the  bow,  securely  tied 
the  end  of  his  line.  Then  with  a  shove  he  sent  the 
boat  away,  toward  the  middle  of  the  slough,  and 
Ned  gently  sculled  until  they  had  gone  at  right 


58  Beaufort  Chums 

angles  about  twenty  yards,  with  the  line  trailing  be- 
tween the  boat  and  the  raft. 

Now  Hal  deftly  attached  the  first  hook  by  its  two 
feet  of  cord,  baited  it  with  a  bit  of  liver,  and  let  it 
slide  overboard.  Three  feet  farther  along  the  line 
he  fastened  another  hook ;  and  in  this  manner  they 
went  edging  across  the  slough,  until  the  fifty  hooks 
had  been  tied  on  and  baited. 

The  next  step  was  to  sink  the  line.  Hal  tied 
upon  the  free  end  two  heavy  coupling  links  which 
had  been  stored  in  under  the  bows.  Ned  sculled 
ahead,  slightly  up  stream,  to  make  allowance  for  the 
sluggish  current,  until  the  line,  with  its  dangling 
hooks  and  liver,  was  fairly  taut. 

"  There  she  goes  ! "  remarked  Hal ;  with  a  clink 
the  coupling  links  disappeared  beneath  the  surface, 
and  the  line  followed. 

They  were  on  their  way  to  the  foot  of  the  raft,  to 
set  out  their  second  line,  when  a  piercing  howl  from 
the  main  shore  startled  them.  It  was  Bob,  lone- 
some, disgusted  and  impatient,  demanding  that  they 
return  to  land  and  to  him.  Where  he  had  been, 
they  did  not  know.  But  now  he  was  sitting  at  the 
water's  brink,  directly  opposite  them,  and  accusing 
them  of  deserting  him. 

"  Bob,  be  quiet !  "  ordered  Ned. 

However,  Bob,  hearing  the  voice,  and  judging  that 
his  howling  was  to  be  in  vain,  decided  that  since 
they  would  not  come  to  him  he  would  go  to  them ; 
whereupon  with  a  yelp  of  defiance  he  plunged  into 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  59 

the  slough,  and  yapping  at  intervals  laid  a  course  for 
the  boat. 

"  Go  back,  Bob  !     Go  back,  sir  !  "  cried  Ned. 

"  Let  him  come,  Ned,"  pleaded  Hal.  "  He  won't 
do  any  harm." 

"  He'll  only  eat  the  liver,  if  he  has  half  a  chance, 
and  hang  himself  on  a  hook ! "  exclaimed  Ned. 
"  Help  me  make  him  go  back." 

Thus  appealed  to,  Hal,  understanding  the  situa- 
tion, took  sides  with  Ned  against  Bob,  and  the  two 
boys  yelled  commands,  and  splashed  with  the  oars. 

Bob,  wavering  in  the  face  of  such  a  hostile  re- 
ception, hesitated,  swam  in  a  circle,  and  finally 
sought  the  shore  again.  Here  he  contented  himself 
with  parading  up  and  down,  and  venting  his  feelings 
by  short,  indignant  barks. 

The  second  trot-line  was  put  out,  from  a  point 
near  the  foot  of  the  raft,  by  a  method  similar  to  that 
already  told.  Slanting  athwart  the  depths  of  the 
slough  the  two  lines  now  extended,  ready  for  busi- 
ness. Satisfied,  and  also  very  hungry,  the  boys  made 
for  shore  and  the  grape  arbor,  where  they  were 
joyously  welcomed  by  Bob. 

According  to  the  height  of  the  sun,  as  well  as  to 
their  stomachs,  it  was  ripe  noon,  and  time  for  dinner. 
By  common  consent,  in  their  outings,  Hal,  who  had 
a  knack  in  that  direction,  was  the  cook.  It  was 
Ned's  duty  to  provide  the  wood,  and  to  attend  to 
camp  affairs  generally  outside  of  the  meals. 

Bob  was  watchman  and  sergeant-at-arms. 


60  Beaufort  Chums 

"  What  will  we  have  ?  "  inquired  Hal. 

"  Oh,  anything,"  answered  Ned ;  "  just  so  we  have 
it  quick  !  " 

"  Bacon  and  potatoes,  fried  together,"  proffered 
the  cook. 

And  bacon  and  thin  slices  of  potatoes,  fried  to- 
gether in  a  skillet  over  a  brisk  little  fire  of  branches 
and  driftwood,  it  was  ! 

"  I  tell  you  there's  nothing  like  bacon ! "  sighed 
Ned,  scraping  his  tin  plate. 

"  And  potatoes  !  "  sighed  Hal,  also  scraping.  (Who 
says  that  cooking  spoils  the  appetite !) 

Bob,  having  gobbled  his  share,  was  trying  to  lick 
the  hot  skillet ! 

"  Do  you  know  what  we  forgot  ?  "  exclaimed  Ned, 
thunder-struck.  "  Coffee ! " 

"  But  if  I'd  had  to  make  coffee  you'd  have  had 
to  wait  a  lot  longer  for  dinner.  It  takes  an  age 
to  boil  water  over  a  fire  like  that  one,"  explained 
Hal. 

"  Well,  bacon  and  potatoes  and  slough  water  are 
good  enough — in  a  hurry,"  admitted  Ned. 

Bob  cleaned  the  skillet  and  Ned  the  plates — the 
grease  yielding  before  a  liberal  rubbing  with  wet 
mud — and  Hal,  digging  a  hole  at  the  water's  edge, 
buried  the  fruit-jar  containing  their  supply  of  butter, 
so  that  it  should  not  melt  too  much. 

This  precaution  having  been  taken,  and  the  camp 
tidied,  Hal  mused,  looking  up  toward  the  raft : 

"  I  wonder  if  we've  caught  any  fish,  yet." 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  61 

"  It's  too  soon  to  go  and  see,"  replied  Ned,  wist- 
fully. "  About  four  o'clock  will  be  time  enough  to 
try.  Let's  visit  Sam  and  Joe." 

"  Come  on,"  agreed  Hal. 

They  found  the  Morgan  brothers  at  home,  and  ap- 
parently glad  to  receive  company.  A  large  brindle 
dog  was  much  less  hospitable,  and  during  the  boys' stay 
he  and  Bob  kept  up  a  constant  exchange  of  sneers  and 
threats.  In  fact,  a  pitched  battle  was  only  narrowly 
avoided — partly  through  the  efforts  of  the  Morgans, 
and  partly  because  Bob  would  not  stir  from  between 
Ned's  legs. 

The  atmosphere  about  the  shanty  was  quite  fishy, 
and  fish  scales  were  scattered  everywhere.  There 
also  was  another,  much  stronger  odor,  at  which  the 
three  newcomers  wrinkled  their  noses  in  disgust. 

Joe  was  occupying  a  bench,  puffing  at  his  pipe ; 
and  sitting  on  a  second  bench,  with  a  board  across 
his  lap,  Sam,  likewise  puffing,  was  cutting  into 
small  square  cakes  what  seemed  to  be  a  mass  of 
dough. 

"  Howdy,"  said  the  boys — Ned  holding  Bob  by 
the  collar. 

The  two  men  nodded  gravely,  and  Joe,  removing 
his  pipe  to  knock  out  the  ashes,  remarked  : 

"  Got  your  lines  set  all  right  ?  See  you  fussin' 
'long  the  logs  a  bit  ago." 

"  Yes,  we  thought  we'd  try  a  couple,  just  for  fun," 
responded  Ned.  "  Do  you  think  the  raft  is  a  good 
place  ?  " 


62  Beaufort  Chums 

"  W-w-well,  I  shouldn't  wonder  but  what  it  is,  for 
a  short  line/'  said  Joe,  filling  his  pipe. 

"  Will  we  get  any  fish,  Joe  ?  "  queried  Hal. 

"  Mebbe,"  said  Joe.     "  A  few  cats,  like  as  not." 

"  Say — what's  Sam  doing  ?  "  questioned  Ned,  sniff- 
ing and  frowning. 

"  He's — makin' — dough — balls,"  said  Joe,  between 
puffs  of  his  freshly  lighted  pipe. 

"  Dough-balls  !  "  repeated   Hal,  quite  in  the  dark. 

"  Yep,"  said  Joe.  "  We  take  a  lot  o'  cheese  and 
let  it  lay  outdoors  'til  it's  real  old  an'  then  we  mix  it 
with  flour,  into  a  paste,  an'  when  it's  good  an'  stiff 
we  cut  it  into  the  right  size  for  bait — like  Sam's 
doin'  now.  Them's  dough-balls.  Smell  'em  ?  " 

"  Smell  'em  !  "  cried  both  boys  together. 

"  Well,  the  fish  smell  'em,  too,"  said  Joe,  tersely. 

"  What  you  boys  usin'  ?  "  inquired  Sam,  speaking 
for  the  first  time  since  their  appearance. 

«  Liver,"  stated  Hal. 

"  That's  better  'n  dough-balls,  I  reckon,"  grunted 
Sam.  "  But  if  you  had  four  or  five  hunderd  hooks 
to  keep  baited,  you'd  right  soon  run  out  o'  liver,  I 
bet." 

"  You  see,  we've  only  fifty  hooks  on  each  line,"  ex- 
plained Ned,  modestly.  "  When  we  haven't  any 
liver  we're  going  to  use  frogs,  and  crawfish  and 
things." 

"  How  often  ought  we  to  run  the  lines  ?  "  asked 
Hal.  "  Every  four  or  five  hours  ?  " 

"  If  you're  a  might  to,"  replied  Joe.     "  O1  course, 


The  Camp  at  Deep  Creek  63 

we  run  ours  only  mornin'  an'  night,  but  it's  kinder 
more  of  a  job  than  yours  be  !  If  I  was  you  I'd  run 
'em  'bout  five  o'clock,  an'  then  'long  'bout  ten,  again, 
to  bait  'em  for  the  night,  an'  again  arly  in  the 
mornin',  an'  mebbe  at  noon." 

"  That'll  keep  'em  baited  in  good  shape,"  put  in 
Sam,  "  an'  you  ought  to  get  fish  if  there's  any 
'round." 

"  All  right ;  much  obliged,"  responded  the  boys. 

"  In  case  you  get  more'n  you  can  eat  at  one  haul," 
offered  Joe,  kindly,  "  there's  a  fish-box,  down  in 
the  water  near  that  stake,  that  we  ain't  using,  and 
you  can  have  it  so's  to  keep  'em  alive,  if  you 
want  to." 

"  Sure ;  take  it  along,"  urged  Sam. 

"  I  should  say  we  would  like  it !  It's  just  the 
thing  ! "  exclaimed  the  boys,  delighted.  "  Much 
obliged." 

They  hung  around  for  a  short  time,  and  then, 
haunted  by  that  fish-box,  hastened  back  to  camp — 
Bob  growing  braver  and  braver  as  they  put  distance 
between  them  and  the  brindled  dog — to  bring  down 
their  boat  and  get  their  prize. 

Upon  their  return,  with  Joe's  help  they  loaded  the 
water-soaked  box,  dripping  from  every  slat,  into  their 
craft,  and  gleefully  made  off  with  it. 

Soon  they  had  it  sunk  and  anchored  in  front  of 
their  grape  arbor. 

"  I  don't  suppose  it's  more  than  three,  yet,"  hinted 
Hal,  when,  uncertain  as  to  what  to  do  next,  to  make 


64  Beaufort  Chums 

time  fly,  they  paused  and  wiped  their  hands  on  their 
trousers-legs. 

"  I  suppose  not,"  agreed  Ned,  noting  the  height  of 
the  sun.  "  But  don't  let's  wait  till  five,  this  time,"  he 
proposed.  "  Let's  run  the  lines  now,  just  for  the  fun 
of  it." 

Hal  needed  no  persuasion.  Leaving  Bob  to  be 
watchman  over  the  camp,  they  pushed  out  again 
from  shore. 


CHAPTER  V 
TURTLES,  FISH,  FROGS  AND  SNAKES 

AIMING  for  the  foot  of  the  old  raft,  from 
which  the  first  of  their  two  trot-lines  had  been 
set  out,  Hal  and  Ned  cut  diagonally  across 
the  bayou. 

Not  a  waft  of  air  riffled  the  water;  the  sun  was  re- 
flected from  it  as  from  a  looking-glass,  right  into  their 
faces,  and  proceeded  to  turn  their  complexions  redder 
and  redder.  All  around,  the  heads  of  curious  turtles 
dotted  the  surface,  disappearing  as  the  boat  drew 
near,  and  popping  out  again  when  it  had  passed. 
Here  and  there  a  hungry  gar  or  dog-fish  leaped  into 
sight  for  an  instant,  while  numerous  king- fishers, 
brave  in  their  blue  and  white,  plumped  down,  with 
mighty  splashes,  for  minnows. 

The  perspiration  rolled  from  the  face  of  Hal,  who 
was  at  the  sculling-oar ;  dripped  into  his  eyes,  and 
dropped  off  the  end  of  his  crimsoning  nose.  Yet 
doubtless  he  felt  cooler  than  did  Ned,  who,  idle 
in  the  bows,  simply  was  baking  instead  of  boiling. 

However,  neither  cared.  The  weather  figured  lit- 
tle, and  they  were  more  concerned  over  the  imme- 
diate future  than  over  the  present. 

"  I  bet  you  we  don't  get  a  thing  except  dog-fish ! " 
commented  Hal,  discouragingly. 

65 


66  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  will,"  returned  Ned,  with  more  hope. 
"  That  is,"  he  added,  "  unless  the  turtles  and  gars  rob 
the  hooks  as  fast  as  we  bait  up." 

"  Well,  may  be ;  Sam  and  Joe  seemed  to  think  we 
would,  anyway,"  admitted  Hal,  blowing  the  beads 
from  the  tip  of  his  nose. 

They  glided  in  against  the  raft,  and  Ned,  reaching 
over,  grasped  the  line. 

"  Feel  anything  ? "  queried  Hal,  eagerly,  as  Ned 
paused  a  moment. 

"  Seems  kind  of  like  it,"  said  Ned,  fingering  the 
line.  "  But  perhaps  it's  only  the  current  jerking." 

He  lifted  the  line  and  laid  it  across  the  bows ;  and 
squatting  on  the  combing,  beside  it,  gently  pulled  the 
boat,  hand  over  hand,  toward  the  first  hook. 

"  Nothing  on  that  hook,"  remarked  Hal,  as  pres- 
ently the  bit  of  cord  by  which  it  was  suspended  rose, 
slack  and  lifeless,  out  from  the  water.  Then  the 
hook  itself  dangled  into  view.  No,  it  had  nothing  on 
it — not  even  bait. 

As  it  came  in-board  Ned  stuck  a  piece  of  liver  on 
it  and  let  it  slide  out  again. 

"  Something's  coming ! "  he  cried,  jubilantly,  his 
hands  pausing  upon  the  line.  "  I  can  feel  it  now, 
easy  !  See  him  jerk  ?  " 

"  Hurrah ! "  shouted  Hal,  excitedly,  edging  for- 
ward, to  be  ready  to  help. 

Hook  two  also  was  quite  empty. 

"  Looks  as  though  the  slough's  having  a  good  big 
feast  of  liver,  anyway ! "  commented  Ned,  baiting. 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         67 

"  Hurry,"  urged  Hal ;  for  now  the  line  just  beyond 
was  dipping  and  surging,  under  the  struggles  of  some- 
thing on  hook  three. 

«  Say — it's  a  turtle  !  A  big  soft-shell — I  saw  him  !  " 
exclaimed  Ned. 

"  Oh,  shucks  !  "  responded  Hal,  disgusted.  "  Yes, 
there  he  is  ! "  as  a  stout  flapper  darted  up  into  sight 
and  vanished  again  with  a  swirl. 

Soon  the  line  bent  sharply  over  the  side  of 
the  boat,  and  in  the  water  under  their  eyes  the 
boys  could  descry  the  sprawling  disk  of  Mr. 
Turtle. 

"  How  will  I  get  him  in  f  "  asked  Ned,  perplexed. 

"  Why,  lift  him  right  out,"  answered  Hal. 

Ned  gingerly  drew  the  prisoner  to  the  surface,  and 
then  cried: 

"  The  hook's  in  his  flapper  !  How  do  you  suppose 
he  ever  got  caught  that  way  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Hal.  "  I  guess  he  started 
to  eat  with  his  fingers." 

"  Or  else  he  put  his  foot  in  his  mouth,  and  got 
hooked  that  way,"  added  Ned.  "  Did  you  say  to  lift 
him  right  out  ?  " 

«  Sure,"  said  Hal. 

"  Supposing  you  do  it,"  suggested  Ned,  eyeing  the 
turtle,  whose  flappers,  armed  with  long  claws,  were 
striking  in  all  directions  as  their  owner  strove  to  get 
away. 

Hal  thoughtfully  surveyed  the  situation. 

"  We  ought  to  have  a  landing-net,"  he  declared. 


68  Beaufort  Chums 

"  But  put  your  hands  under  the  edge  of  his  shell,  and 
throw  him  in.  He  won't  hurt  you." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  his  biting  me,  but  he  scratches 
like  fury.  His  claws  are  about  a  mile  long ! "  ob- 
served Ned,  dubiously  preparing  to  follow  Hal's  ad- 
vice. 

The  turtle,  for  the  moment,  was  quiet,  possibly 
waiting  for  his  embarrassed  captors  to  do  something. 
Ned  suddenly  grabbed  him  by  the  shell,  and  before 
he  realized  what  was  taking  place  had  heaved  him 
over  the  gunwale,  into  the  boat. 

The  shock  released  the  hook,  which  fell  from  the 
flapper,  and  now  a  very  angry  turtle  was  at  large  in 
quarters  altogether  too  restricted  to  suit  himself  and 
two  bare-legged  youths. 

The  turtle  was  about  the  size  of  a  wash  pan.  He 
was  of  the  common  sharp-nose,  fresh-water  variety, 
of  a  drabbish-gray,  with  a  smooth  shell  flexible  like 
cartilage.  His  legs  were  tremendously  powerful,  and 
with  his  long,  snaky  neck  far  extended,  his  eyes 
sparkling,  and  his  mouth  wide  open,  hissing  with  all 
his  might  he  made  straight  toward  the  stern  and  at 
Hal. 

"  Look  out !  "  warned  Ned. 

Narrowly  escaping  going  overboard,  Hal  scrambled 
upon  the  combing,  and  ran  along  it  until  he  had 
joined  the  laughing  Ned,  in  the  bows.  Here,  perched 
upon  the  decking  which  extended  over  this  portion 
of  the  craft,  they  were  out  of  harm's  way — that  is, 
the  turtle's. 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         69 

This  individual,  balked  of  a  bite  out  of  one  of  Hal's 
browned  legs,  endeavored  to  climb  up  the  side  of  the 
boat,  but  tumbled  back  time  and  again. 

"  I  wish  he'd  go,"  complained  Ned.  "  We  aren't 
after  turtles,  to-day." 

"  So  do  I,"  agreed  Hal,  ruefully  wiggling  a  big  toe, 
which  he  had  stubbed  in  his  rapid  flight.  "  We  don't 
need  him." 

"  I  got  him  in — you  get  him  out,"  proposed  Ned, 
shrewdly. 

"  Well,  either  he  gets  out,  or  we  do,"  declared  Hal. 
And  he  tried  to  assist  the  unwelcome  captive  by  put- 
ting an  oar-blade  under  him.  Every  time,  however, 
the  turtle  slid  off,  and  meanwhile  grew  madder  and 
madder — if  such  a  condition  were  possible. 

Hissing  and  clawing,  he  scurried  over  the  bottom 
of  the  boat. 

Finally  his  turtle  cunning  led  him  to  settle  upon 
the  stern  as  the  easiest  point  for  escape ;  and  never 
giving  up  he  attacked  the  sloping  board  again  and 
again,  only  to  fall  back.  Each  time  that  the  boys 
would  have  boosted  him  with  an  oar-blade  he 
turned  and  snapped,  and  appeared  so  ungrateful 
that  they  were  fain  to  leave  him  to  his  own 
efforts. 

At  last  he  managed  to  insert  the  claws  of  a 
hind  flapper  into  the  little  space  left  by  the  oar 
in  the  sculling-hole,  and  then  was  enabled  to  thrust 
one  of  his  fore  flappers  over  the  edge  of  the 
stern. 


70  Beaufort  Chums 

Up  he  went.  For  an  instant  he  balanced  on  the 
stern,  his  four  legs  and  his  stiff  little  tail,  and  his  wav- 
ing head  all  outstretched  in  air. 

"  Scat !  "  called  Ned. 

At  the  word  Mr.  Turtle  disappeared  with  a  fine 
splash. 

"  Good  !  "  exclaimed  Hal,  much  relieved. 

"  No  more  turtles  come  in  this  boat,  do  they, 
Hal ! "  vowed  Ned.  "  Better  to  cut  the  line,  and  be 
rid  of  them." 

The  boys  now  proceeded  with  their  business — that 
of  finding  out  what  else  their  hooks  had  in  store  for 
them.  Although  the  turtle  was  off,  still  the  line 
swayed  and  sagged,  denoting  another  catch  a  short 
distance  ahead. 

This  proved  to  be  on  hook  six. 

"  It's  nothing  but  a  gar !  "  announced  Ned,  peering 
down  as  he  neared  the  spot. 

"  Big  one  ?  "  queried  Hal,  anxious  for  at  least  some 
consolation. 

«  No — just  ordinary  size,"  said  Ned,  disdainfully. 
"  What  will  we  do  with  him  ?  " 

The  gar  was  now  lying  on  the  surface  of  the  water, 
beside  the  bows,  only  occasionally  giving  a  slight 
squirm.  Maybe  he  was  tired ;  or  maybe,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  turtle,  he  was  waiting  for  an  opportunity 
to  do  a  little  damage.  He  was  about  three  feet  long, 
and  with  his  slim,  round  body,  his  wicked  eyes, 
and  his  bill-like  mouth  armed  with  sharp  teeth,  he 
looked  fully  capable  of  taking  care  of  himself.  The 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         71 

hook  was  firmly  embedded  in  the  lower  half  of  his 
long,  bony  snout. 

Ned  cautiously  extended  his  hand,  to  try  to  release 
the  barb — and  the  gar  snapped  viciously. 

"  I  don't  believe  we  can  get  the  hook  out  unless  we 
kill  him,  and  there's  no  use  doing  that,"  asserted  Ned. 
"  He's  too  coarse  to  eat." 

"  Fishermen  break  their  bills,  and  throw  them  back 
again,"  informed  Hal. 

"  But  that's  torture ;  it  makes  them  starve  to 
death,"  replied  Ned. 

"  Can't  you  jerk  out  the  hook  ?  "  asked  Hal. 

Ned  attempted  this,  by  towing  the  gar  back  and 
forth,  and  pulling  on  the  hook  at  all  angles.  The 
fish  submitted  passively,  and  suddenly  appealed  to 
Ned  as  so  helpless  and  so  unhappy  that  with  a  quick 
impulse  he  severed  the  cord.  With  a  flop  of  his  tail 
the  gar  darted  from  sight. 

"  Get !  "  advised  Ned. 

He  substituted  another  cord  and  hook,  and  both  he 
and  Hal  felt  relieved. 

Their  mercy  was  rewarded,  for  when  they  had  run 
the  line  a  few  yards  farther,  they  met  with  opposition 
in  the  shape  of  a  dead  weight  which  caused  Ned  to 
exert  considerable  strength  to  lift. 

"  Snag  ?  "  inquired  Hal,  anxiously,  watching  Ned 
raising  the  line  inch  by  inch. 

"  Don't  know,"  grunted  Ned. 

"  Just  our  luck  ! "  groaned  Hal. 

However,  Hal  was  to  be  agreeably  disappointed. 


72  Beaufort  Chums 

The  knot  fastening  the  cord  to  which  was  suspended 
the  hook  came  into  view — and  on  the  instant  the 
water  underneath  it  swirled  violently. 

"  It's  a  big  cat !  Come  on,  Hal,  and  grab  him,  or 
he'll  tear  out  the  hook!"  shouted  Ned,  wildly  ex- 
cited. 

Carefully  he  seized  the  cord,  and  gently,  so  as  not 
to  frighten  the  fish,  drew  him  alongside. 

"  He's  caught  just  through  the  edge  of  his  lip  ! 
Watch  out !  "  warned  Ned. 

Hal,  regardless  of  any  peril  to  himself,  leaned  far 
over.  The  victim,  sluggish  but  far  from  sleepy, 
looked  like  a  young  whale.  Hal  boldly  thrust  his 
fingers  in  behind  the  cat's  gills,  to  haul  him  bodily 
over  the  gunwale;  there  was  a  sudden  gigantic 
flurry,  a  splash,  and  presto,  change !  Instead  of  it 
being  the  cat  in  the  boat,  it  was  Hal  in  the  slough  ! 

Ned  gazed  in  alarm ;  but  before  he  could  move  to 
the  rescue  Hal's  head  broke  the  surface  a  few  yards 
off. 

"  Here's  an  oar,  Hal !  "  called  Ned. 

"  Uh-uh  !  "  protested  Hal,  shaking  his  head  while 
he  blew  the  water  from  his  nostrils.  "  I'm  all  right. 
Did  the  fish  get  away  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so — no,  he  didn't,  either ! "  announced 
Ned  gladly. 

"  I'll  swim  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  boat,  and 
you  can  be  seeing  if  you  can't  lift  him  in,"  declared 
Hal.  "  Don't  you  tumble  over,  too,"  he  added,  as  a 
caution. 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         73 

The  catfish  seemed  to  be  satisfied  with  what  he 
had  accomplished ;  and  still  about  in  the  same  spot, 
made  no  sign  of  farther  trickiness. 

However,  Ned  was  very  careful  in  approaching 
him.  A  moment,  and  the  cat  came  over  the  one 
gunwale  as  Hal  came  over  the  other. 

The  hook,  which  had  caught  merely  in  one  of  the 
lips,  where  it  had  worn  quite  a  hole,  dropped  while 
Ned  was  lifting,  and  there  lay  the  victim  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat,  free  too  late. 

"  A  regular  « yaller '  mud-cat,"  laughed  Ned. 
"  Say — but  we  were  lucky  not  to  lose  him.  If  he'd 
only  had  sense  enough  he  might  have  got  loose  long 
ago." 

"  I  bet  he  weighs  twenty  pounds,"  declared  the 
dripping  Hal. 

"  He's  all  mouth  !  "  returned  Ned. 

The  boys  gazed  and  gloated.  The  catfish,  gasp- 
ing in  the  sudden  change  from  water  to  air,  lay,  after 
the  fashion  of  his  kind,  inert  and  emotionless. 

He  was  a  very  ugly  animal,  of  a  dirty  yellow,  and 
while  he  was  not  large  for  his  species,  he  was  the 
largest  that  the  boys  had  ever  caught.  Indeed,  he 
was  quite  a  chunk  of  a  fish.  He  was  shaped  some- 
what like  a  flatiron  ;  and,  as  Ned  had  remarked,  he 
was  about  all  mouth. 

This  mouth,  which  in  appearance  was  a  split  sev- 
ering his  enormous  head  from  side  to  side,  was 
fringed  with  long  feelers.  His  eyes,  almost  white, 
were  small  and  piggish. 


74  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Cut  off  his  head,  and  there's  nothing  left  but  his 
tail,"  commented  Ned,  ruefully  awakening  to  the  fact 
that  perhaps  they  had  not  made  much  of  a  catch, 
after  all. 

"  Well,  he's  better  than  turtles  and  gars,"  replied 
Hal. 

For  the  time  being  the  capture  of  the  prize  had 
quite  overshadowed  Hal's  mishap ;  but  now  Ned 
eyed  him,  and  snickered. 

"  Did  you  touch  bottom  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  No,  sir-ee ;  I  came  up  as  quick  as  I  could," 
avowed  Hal.  "  Do  I  look  wet  ?  "  and  he  slapped  his 
oozing  thighs. 

"  Sort  of,"  admitted  Ned.     "  Where's  your  hat  ?  " 

"  It  must  have  kept  on  going  down,"  answered 
Hal.  "  But  I  don't  care.  No— there  it  is.  I  feel 
fine,"  he  added,  having  rescued  his  hat  with  an  oar. 
"  You  ought  to  go  in — it's  great." 

"  Guess  I'll  wait  a  while,"  smiled  Ned. 

"  Well,  in  half  an  hour  I'll  be  as  dry  as  you,"  as- 
serted Hal. 

And  he  was. 

The  catfish  was  too  unwieldy  to  be  put  in  the 
soap-box  seat  (which  they  had  upturned  on  bottom 
for  a  temporary  hold-all),  and  stowing  him  under  the 
decking  of  the  bows,  out  of  the  sun,  they  investi- 
gated the  remaining  hooks  upon  the  line.  A  large 
majority  were  stripped  and  empty,  but  two  channel- 
cat  and  one  blue-cat  were  taken.  None  of  these 
weighed  over  six  pounds  ;  still,  they  were  not  seven- 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         75 

ninths  head  !  No  more  turtles  or  gars  were  encoun- 
tered. 

The  upper  line  yielded  five  catfish  ;  another  soft- 
shell  turtle,  caught,  as  had  been  his  partner  in  dis- 
tress, by  the  flapper;  and  a  dogfish.  The  turtle 
released  himself,  much  to  the  boys'  pleasure  ;  but  the 
dogfish  did  not.  He  had  swallowed  the  hook,  so 
that  the  cord  passed  through  his  cruel  jaws,  armed 
with  their  wicked  teeth,  into  his  stomach. 

Unwilling  to  lose  another  hook,  Ned  solved  the 
difficulty  by  quickly  dispatching  Mr.  Dogfish  by  a 
smart  blow  over  the  spinal  cord  at  the  juncture  of 
head  and  body,  and  made  use  of  the  otherwise  worth- 
less fellow  by  baiting  hooks  with  his  flesh. 

Running  the  two  lines  had  occupied  at  least  two 
hours.  As  they  turned  campward  Hal  and  Ned  were 
conscious  that  nature's  dinner  bell  was  sounding  in 
their  interiors. 

Bob  saw  them  coming.  At  first  he  was  undecided 
whether  to  regard  them  as  friends,  or  enemies. 
When  Ned  shouted  to  him,  however,  his  canine 
sense  told  him  that  this  was  indeed  the  scull-boat, 
bearing  his  master  ;  and  breaking  from  his  puzzled 
stare  into  a  volley  of  whines  and  barks,  he  shortened 
the  distance  by  venturing  up  to  his  back  out  into  the 
water. 

Then,  when  the  boys  sprang  to  land,  he  spattered 
them  well  for  not  having  invited  him.  But  who 
cared  ?  They  were  about  as  wet  and  dirty  as  they 
could  be,  anyway ! 


76  Beaufort  Chums 

As  they  disembarked,  Sam  and  Joe  pulled  out, 
below,  with  their  short,  choppy  fisherman  strokes, 
bound  for  their  own  lines,  which  were  not  set  in  the 
bayou,  but  .in  the  deep  water,  toward  the  main 
channel. 

The  boys  waved  at  the  pair,  and  Joe  languidly 
waved  back. 

Now  it  remained  to  place  in  the  fish-box  the 
haul  from  the  trot-lines,  and  to  get  supper.  Hal 
volunteered  to  cook  a  fish  if  Ned  would  clean  one, 
but  Ned  decided  that  this  would  make  a  painful 
delay. 

He  hastily  started  a  fire  of  driftwood  and  branches, 
and  until  there  should  be  coals  upon  which  to  put  the 
frying-pan,  he  strolled  with  Bob  back  into  the  timber 
to  look  for  more  fuel. 

Presently,  unable  to  stay  long  away  from  the  base 
of  supplies,  he  returned  to  the  camp.  He  had  some 
news. 

"  You  just  ought  to  see !  "  he  reported  to  Hal,  who 
was  squatting  before  the  fire,  frying  potatoes  and 
bacon  together.  "  There's  a  sort  of  dried  swamp  a 
little  ways  back  in  the  woods,  and  it's  simply  alive 
with  young  frogs.  They'll  make  splendid  bait." 

"  Let's  go  and  get  a  lot,  after  supper,"  said  Hal. 
"  I  don't  suppose  the  liver  will  be  any  good  by  morn- 
ing. And,  besides,  it's  about  all  gone." 

Ned  seated  himself  on  the  ground,  and  sniffed  the 
air.  Bob  did  the  same. 

"  Nearly  ready  ?  "  they  asked — the    one  with  his 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         77 

voice,  the  other  with  his  dripping  tongue,  and  glisten- 
ing eyes,  and  nervous  tail. 

"  Hold  your  plate,"  commanded  Hal.  Ned  eagerly 
obeyed ;  Bob,  having  no  plate,  gazed  covetously. 
Hal  shoveled  out  a  generous  portion  from  the  hissing 
frying-pan,  and  saying :  "  Here,  Bob,"  laid  another 
portion  upon  a  slab  of  bark.  The  rest  he  kept. 

Each  boy  poured  for  himself,  from  the  tin  pail,  a 
pint  cup  of  coffee,  and  all  fell  to.  Bob  went  coffee- 
less — which  no  doubt  was  just  as  well,  considering 
that  at  home  neither  he  nor  his  master  drank  any 
coffee,  let  alone  a  pint  cup  full ! 

Still,  out  camping  one  does  many  things  which 
would  not  agree  with  one  at  home. 

The  coffee  was  very  hot.  The  bacon  and  potatoes 
were  very  hot.  Bob  circled  his  bark  plate,  with 
mingled  anticipation  and  disgust ;  hunger  urged  him 
on,  while  the  memory  of  a  certain  burning  mouthful 
held  him  back.  He  suspected  a  trick. 

At  last,  valor  overcoming  discretion,  he  plunged 
ahead,  and  gobbled  as  fast  as  he  could,  while  his 
companions  jeered. 

The  supper  having  been  cleared  away — and  save 
rinsing  the  utensils  there  was  no  "  clearing "  to  be 
done,  after  two  hungry  boys  and  a  dog  had  scraped 
and  licked — a  frog  hunt  was  inaugurated.  Protected 
now  by  shoes  and  stockings,  the  boys,  taking  the 
willing  Bob,  proceeded  to  Ned's  swamp. 

The  sun  was  setting,  a  ball  of  dull  red  in  the 
golden  west,  and  as  the  three  chums  traversed  the 


78  Beaufort  Chums 

short  patch  lying  between  the  dried  marsh  and  their 
arbor  upon  the  bank  of  the  slough,  already  the 
wild-wood  was  growing  dusky  and  subdued.  Birds 
were  darting  to  their  homes,  and  were  twittering 
their  good- nights.  A  whippoorwill  began  to  pipe 
in  the  island  across  the  bayou.  Mosquitoes  rose 
from  the  under  side  of  leaves,  and  here  and  there 
moths  flitted  aimlessly.  The  mooing  of  cows,  as 
they  were  driven  to  the  milking-place,  floated  in 
from  distant  pastures. 

"  Here  we  are,"  announced  Ned,  pausing  on  the 
edge  of  a  narrow  open  strip. 

"  Listen  !  What's  that  funny  noise  ?  "  exclaimed 
Hal,  stopping  stock  still.  Bob  who  had  been 
soberly  following  at  the  boys'  heels,  also  stopped. 

On  the  quiet  atmosphere,  almost  from  beneath 
their  feet,  rose  a  series  of  shrill  little  squeaks — some- 
how the  oddest  sounds  that  the  trio  ever  had  heard. 

"  Isn't  that  funny  !  "  whispered  Ned.  "  What  is  it, 
do  you  think  ?  " 

Hal  didn't  know.     Bob  didn't  know. 

Carefully  they  peered  about,  through  the  vicinity, 
and  found  out. 

"  Oh,  Ned — it's  a  frog !  "  on  a  sudden  called  Hal. 
"  Come  quick,  and  see !  Two  garter  snakes  have 
got  hold  of  him  ! " 

Ned  hastened  over,  and  sure  enough,  there  was  a 
small  frog  in  as  tight  a  fix  as  ever  a  small  frog  could 
be !  Each  hind  leg  was  deep  in  the  maw  of  a  garter 
snake ;  and  now  the  two  snakes,  forced  to  suspend 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         79 

their  swallowing  operations,  were  lustily  pulling  in 
opposite  directions,  while  his  frogship,  stretched  be- 
tween them,  was  shrieking  for  help. 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  Let's  rescue  the  poor  thing,"  cried 
Ned ;  and  suiting  his  action  to  his  word  he  struck 
one  of  the  snakes  a  blow  with  a  switch  that  he  had 
in  his  hand.  Startled,  the  snake  dropped  the  frog— 
whereupon  the  other  would  have  fled  with  the  booty, 
had  not  Hal  halted  him  and  made  him  disgorge. 

The  frog,  nothing  daunted,  hopped  away.  Bob 
turned  himself  his  avenger.  Wrinkling  back  his 
lips,  with  utmost  disgust  he  seized  the  first  snake,  in 
its  retreat,  and  gingerly  clutching  it  between  his 
teeth,  while  the  saliva  dripped  from  his  unwilling 
jaws,  shook  it  frantically  until  it  fairly  flew  to  pieces. 
The  other  snake,  having  for  a  moment  bravely  faced 
Hal  and  menaced  him  with  its  tongue,  disappeared. 

"  Snakes  ?  "  spoke  Ned,  pointing.  "  Why,  just 
look  at  them,  will  you  ! " 

That  swamp  was  fairly  swarming  with  them,  all, 
like  the  boys,  out  after  frogs.  A  garter  snake  con- 
siders a  young  frog  a  dainty  morsel,  and  some  of  the 
snakes  were  quite  lumpy,  from  the  unlucky  victims 
that  they  had  engulfed. 

"  Well,  if  this  doesn't  beat  the  dickens  !  "  declared 
Hal. 

Bob  could  not  bring  himself  to  mouthing  another 
[  of  the  snakes.  He  would  pretend  to  pounce  upon 
one,  and  would  quickly  spring  away,  his  curling  lips 
indicating  his  disgust. 


80  Beaufort  Chums 

Undaunted  by  the  competition,  the  boys,  urged  on 
by  the  gathering  darkness,  hastened  to  collect  their 
frogs  and  put  them  in  the  coffee  pail !  Bob  was  of 
not  the  slightest  assistance.  He  loathed  frogs  as 
much  as  he  did  snakes,  and  actually  frothed  at  them, 
so  intense  were  his  feelings. 

"  What  do  you  think  !  "  exclaimed  Hal,  presently. 
"  Here's  a  snake  that  had  swallowed  a  frog,  and 
when  I  came  up  he  was  so  scared  that  he  opened  his 
mouth,  and  the  frog  scooted  out  again !  " 

"  Don't  catch  him,"  cried  Ned,  referring  to  the 
frog.  "  He's  been  dead  once,  and  now  he's  earned 
his  life." 

So  Hal  allowed  the  resurrected  frog  to  go  his  way, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  garter  snakes  were  as 
obliging. 

By  the  time  the  boys  had  secured  some  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  of  the  tiny  green  frogs,  each  about 
half  an  inch  in  length,  twilight  had  deepened  into 
dusk,  and  trees  and  bushes  were  merged  in  shadows. 

With  a  few  stumbles  over  vines  and  roots  they  re- 
traced their  steps  to  the  arbor.  Then  arose  the 
question,  where  to  keep  the  frogs,  considering  that 
the  pail  would  be  needed  for  the  breakfast  coffee  ! 

The  voices  of  men  talking,  and  the  snappy  sound 
of  oars  shifting  between  thole  pins  drifted  from  the 
mouth  of  the  bayou. 

"  Sam  and  Joe  are  just  coming  back.  Let's  go 
down  and  report,  and  see  if  they  haven't  something 
we  can  borrow,  to  put  the  frogs  in,"  proposed  Ned. 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         81 

So  the  three  of  them  trudged  along  the  bank, 
where  a  faint  path  had  been  worn.  It  was  presumed 
that  Bob,  of  course,  knew  what  was  up.  But  after 
they  had  gone  far  enough  to  indicate  their  goal,  he 
suddenly  awakened  to  the  fact  that  the  route  was 
leading  to  the  brindled  dog,  and  refused  to  proceed 
farther.  He  sat  on  his  tail,  and  pleaded  with  his 
two  comrades  not  to  expose  themselves  to  insults 
from  that  vulgar  fellow.  As  they  refused  to  yield  to 
him,  he  watched  them  until  they  were  out  of  sight, 
and  followed  them  with  his  mournful  howls.  Then, 
having  done  his  duty,  he  returned  to  the  grape  arbor 
camp,  and  curled  to  sleep  on  Ned's  coat. 

Soon,  even  had  they  been  blind  to  the  flickering 
light,  and  deaf  to  the  muffled  voices,  by  their  noses 
alone  the  boys  would  have  known  that  they  were 
near  the  fishermen's  cabin.  Sam  and  Joe  were  busy, 
with  aid  of  a  lantern,  at  their  landing.  Evidently 
they  had  just  disembarked. 

"  Hullo,  there  !  "  hailed  the  boys. 

"  Hey  ! "  cheerily  answered  Joe. 

"  Bow  wow  wow  wow ! "  challenged  the  brindled 
dog — exactly  as  Bob  had  predicted! 

Sam  said  nothing.  Sam  was  not  much  of  a 
talker. 

The  boys  scrambled  down  to  the  landing.  Joe 
was  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  handing  out  things  to 
Sam,  who  was  in  the  water  beside  it.  Both  men 
had  on  their  hip  rubber  boots. 

"  What  luck  ?  "  asked  Hal. 


8l  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Not  much,"  replied  Joe,  without  pausing  in  his 
operations.  "  What  did  you  boys  get?" 

"  Seven  catfish,"  informed  Ned,  trying  to  make 
his  tone  matter-of-fact. 

"  And  two  turtles  and  a  gar  and  a  dogfish,"  added 
Hal. 

"  And  two  turtles,  and  a  gar,  and  a  dogfish,  eh  ?  " 
laughed  Joe.  "  Well,  I  reckon  that  without  'em  you 
beat  us.  Fish  out  where  we  be  are  gettin'  'bout 
tired  o'  dough-balls  ;  ain't  that  so,  Sam  ?  " 

Sam  grunted ;  giving  the  fish-box  in  front  of  him 
a  kick  into  deeper  water,  he  plashed  to  shore,  and 
stumped  up  the  slope  to  the  cabin.  Joe  followed. 

"  Come  in,"  he  invited,  over  his  shoulder. 

The  boys  entered.  Sam  was  lighting  a  lamp  in  a 
bracket  against  the  wall.  The  cabin  was  small  and 
close,  with  its  two  bunks,  its  stove  for  cooking,  and 
its  walls  hung  with  clothing  and  cooking  and  fish- 
ing utensils  and  decorated  with  prints.  The  room 
was  bedchamber,  kitchen  and  parlor,  in  one. 

"  We  can't  stay,  thank  you,"  spoke  Ned,  fancying 
that  the  two  fishermen  would  want  to  attend  to  their 
own  affairs.  "  Only,  we  caught  a  lot  of  frogs  for 
bait,  and  haven't  anything  to  keep  them  in.  Have 
you  got  an  old  bucket,  or  some  tin  cans,  we  can 
have?" 

"  Lot's  of  'em,"  responded  Joe.  "  Paw  over  that 
heap  back  of  the  shanty,  and  take  what  you  want." 

"  Better  have  the  lantern,"  advised  Sam — speaking 
for  the  first  time. 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         83 

With  the  brindled  dog  continuing  to  eye  them  as 
if  suspecting  that  they  were  stealing,  Hal  and  Ned 
looked  over  the  pile  of  refuse,  and  came  upon  an  old 
tin  pail  which  suited  their  purpose. 

Having  achieved  this,  and  said  good-night,  they 
went  back  to  camp,  through  the  darkness  ;  and  they 
tripped  so  often,  and  stepped  on  so  many  rolling 
sticks,  and  stones,  that  they  wished  they  had  their 
own  lantern  along. 

Upon  hearing  them  approaching,  the  faithful  Bob 
was  in  arms  at  once,  resolved  to  save  the  camp,  or 
die ;  but  upon  being  reassured  by  Ned's  whistle  and 
call,  he  advanced  and  greeted  them  with  his  usual 
wordiness,  while  he  sniffed  for  traces  of  his  down- 
creek  enemy. 

With  nothing  especial  to  do,  immediately,  the 
boys  sat  on  the  bank,  to  wait.  Now  the  woods  be- 
hind and  the  water  in  front  were  black,  and  the  trees 
across  on  the  other  side  were  but  a  vague  mass.  A 
whole  colony  of  whippoorwills  whistled  from  point 
to  point  incessantly,  and  two  owls,  one  distant,  one 
quite  near,  hooted  a  responsive  duet.  Bob  whined 
and  shivered,  for  the  air  was  damp  with  the  falling 
dew  and  the  mist  rising  from  the  water.  Beyond,  in 
the  channel  of  the  river,  sounded  the  soft  exhaust  of 
an  ascending  rafter. 

Despite  the  attentions  of  numerous  mosquitoes, 
Ned  felt  himself  growing  sleepy. 

"  Wonder  what  time  it  is,"  he  hazarded. 

"  Must  be  nearly  nine,"  said  Hal. 


84  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Sam  said  to  run  the  lines  again  about  ten,  didn't 
he?"  inquired  Ned. 

"  Yes,  about  ten,  and  early  in  the  morning,"  re- 
sponded Hal,  drowsily. 

Conversation  languished ;  and  after  an  interval  of 
silence,  punctuated  only  by  the  spasmodic  com- 
plaints of  Bob,  who  was  acting  very  babyish,  Ned 
spoke  up : 

"  Say — what's  the  matter  with  running  the  lines 
now,  and  not  waiting  till  ten.  I'm  pretty  near 
asleep." 

"  Let's.     So  am  I,"  agreed  Hal. 

They  lighted  their  lantern,  and  taking  the  liver, 
the  frogs  and  the  remains  of  the  dogfish,  tumbled 
into  the  scull-boat  and  pushed  out.  Behind  them, 
upon  shore,  stayed  Bob,  the  disconsolate,  who  was 
growing  tired  of  always  being  "  left."  He  was  posi- 
tive that  he  was  missing  much  fun. 

The  Deep  Creek  of  night  was  decidedly  different 
from  the  Deep  Creek  of  day,  just  as  the  most  open 
woods,  in  the  light,  are  transformed  into  regular 
labyrinths,  in  the  dark. 

It  was  Ned's  turn  to  scull.  It  seemed  to  both 
boys  that  they  never  would  reach  the  raft,  so  fast 
they  appeared  to  glide,  and  yet  so  slow  they  were  in 
arriving.  And  all  was  so  eerie — black  slough,  black 
woods,  black  sky,  and  queer  noises. 

"  There's  the  raft,  right  ahead !  "  exclaimed  Hal. 

Whereupon  they  bumped  into  it. 

The  water,  which  was  so  playful  as  under  the  rays 


Turtles,  Fish,  Frogs  and  Snakes         85 

of  the  sun  it  lapped  the  mossy  old  logs,  now  was 
sullen  and  chill.  Hal  swung  the  lantern  over,  and 
speedily  found  the  end  of  the  trot-line. 

They  were  forced  to  run  the  lines  by  feeling  rather 
than  by  sight,  for  at  best  the  beams  of  the  lantern 
were  shifty  and  uncertain.  Either  they  had  come 
again  too  soon,  or  the  fish  had  gone  to  sleep,  or 
were  gorged  with  liver,  for  two  medium-size  catfish, 
one  from  each  line,  was  the  total  yield. 

The  boys  were  a  little  disappointed.  Out  of  the 
assortment  of  dainties  at  hand  having  baited  afresh 
the  empty  hooks,  they  sculled  back  to  camp,  and 
Bob. 

With  most  of  their  clothing  on,  and  their  coats  for 
pillows,  they  rolled  in  their  blankets,  in  the  arbor, 
(Bob  contentedly  between  them),  and  not  even  the 
over-sociable  mosquitoes  could  hold  them  awake  for 
more  than  five  minutes  and  a  quarter. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  GHOST  OF  THE  INDIAN  MOUNDS 

THE  sun,  from  his  station  a  little  north  of 
east,  stared  full  into  the  grape  arbor  sleep- 
ing room,  and  shone  on  Hal's  still  face.  A 
fly  hustled  in,  and  buzzed  about  Hal's  nose.  Hal 
frowned,  and  impatiently  shook  his  head;  but  un- 
able to  rid  himself  of  sun  or  fly,  opened  his  eyes. 
At  the  same  instant  Ned,  beside  him,  stirred  and 
turned  over,  disturbing  Bob,  who  had  been  very 
comfortable. 

Both  boys  sat  up  and  blinked.  Bob  stretched f 
shook  himself,  and  strolled  out. 

"  Say — we'd  better  get  out  and  run  those  trot- 
lines  !  "  yawned  Ned.  "  We've  overslept." 

"  I  should  think  so  !  "  yawned  back  Hal. 

"  Do  you  know,  when  I  woke,  Bob  was  on  my 
stomach.  He  must  have  been  there  all  night!" 
announced  Ned. 

"  He  was  keeping  warm,"  explained  Hal. 

"  Well,  he  weighed  about  a  ton,"  responded  Ned, 
unwilling  to  make  light  of  it.  "  But  then,"  he  added, 
"  he  kept  me  warm,  too." 

The  boys  yawningly  staggered  to  the  water's  edge 
and  made  their  toilet  in  a  tin  basin,  with  the  scull- 
boat  for  a  wash-stand.  Already  the  sun  was  climb- 

86 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       87 

ing  high,  and  the  gnats  and  flies  and  all  the  world  of 
insect  and  bird  were  awake.  Sam  and  Joe  could  be 
descried  at  work  on  their  lines,  far  outside  the  mouth 
of  the  bayou. 

Only  the  three  tenants  of  Camp  Grape  Arbor  were 
sluggards ! 

Of  these  Bob  was  the  friskiest.  Ned  and  Hal, 
while  trying  to  be  good  natured,  still  were  very  irri- 
table. They  were  stiff  and  lame,  and  spotted  with 
mosquito  bites.  Their  hands  were  painfully  cracked 
from  water  and  dirt  and  the  oar,  and  their  faces, 
burned  by  the  sun,  felt  strangely  leathery.  Hal's 
nose  was  peeling,  and  Ned,  who  foolishly  had  rolled 
up  his  sleeves,  was  the  owner  of  a  huge  water  blister 
half  way  between  left  wrist  and  elbow. 

However,  when  they  once  more  were  in  the  boat, 
and  had  started  for  the  lines — Bob  again  remaining 
alone  in  camp,  a  state  at  which  he  never  failed  to 
protest  strongly — their  spirits  really  rose,  and  they 
were  happy. 

"  There's  the  Harriett !  "  said  Ned,  as  the  mellow 
whistle  of  a  steamboat  signaling  for  a  landing  chimed 
in  the  distance,  over  the  water. 

"  Then  it  must  be  about  eight  o'clock ! "  cried  Hal, 
scandalized.  "  My  !  but  we're  lazy  !  " 

And  to  atone  for  their  late  rising  he  dug  valiantly 
with  the  sculling  oar. 

Their  morning's  haul  consisted  of  five  catfish,  and, 
amid  great  rejoicing,  a  fine  pickerel,  for  their  fish- 
box  ;  a  soft  shell  turtle,  who  so  easily  released  his  own 


88  Beaufort  Chums 

flapper,  and  swam  off,  that  Ned  declared  he  was  one 
of  the  two  they  had  caught  yesterday,  and  was 
simply  making  his  regular  rounds ;  and  a  black  bass, 
a  mere  minnow,  whose  greediness  had  led  him  to 
take  into  his  mouth  more  than  he  could  swallow. 
Him  the  boys  let  go,  to  grow. 

As  on  previous  occasions,  all  the  other  hooks  were 
as  bare  of  bait  as  of  anything  else,  and  Ned  had  to 
scrape  together  every  scrap  at  hand  to  rebait  them. 

Upon  their  return  to  camp  the  hungry  boys,  with 
the  ever-hungry  Bob  as  assistant,  had  breakfast. 
Breakfast  consisted  of — bacon  and  potatoes  and  cof- 
fee. The  critical  Hal  insisted  that  the  coffee  tasted 
"  froggy  "  >  Just  the  same,  he  drank  it ! 

For  dinner  they  planned  a  much  grander  menu. 
But  for  the  present,  bacon  and  potatoes  filled  a  crying 
need. 

It  was  necessary  to  get  more  bait ;  and  refreshed 
by  their  breakfast,  the  boys,  having  tidied  camp  to 
the  extent  of  hanging  their  blankets  upon  some 
bushes  in  the  sun  to  dry,  went  with  Bob  on  another 
frog  hunt.  They  found  frogs,  but  no  snakes  ;  evi- 
dently the  evening  was  the  snakes'  special  hour  for 
foraging. 

In  their  search  they  followed  adown  the  little 
swamp  which  slanted  in  toward  the  river.  It  grew 
wetter  as  they  proceeded,  and  they  were  about  to 
leave  it,  when  they  heard  a  tremendous  outburst  of 
barks  and  growls  from  Bob. 

"  Here,  Bob  !     We're  coming,  Bob,  old  fellow  !  " 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       89 

they  called,  running  helter-skelter  to  back  him  up,  or 
scold  him,  whichever  was  proper. 

Bob  was  in  a  great  dilemma.  He  had  run  across 
an  immense  snapping-turtle,  and  did  not  know  what 
to  do  with  it.  He  was  afraid  to  close  with  it,  and 
yet  he  was  unwilling  to  flee  from  it,  therefore  he  had 
adopted  the  middle  course  of  circling  it  at  a  respect- 
ful distance,  and  abusing  it  in  dog  language. 

The  turtle  was  a  patriarch.  His  shell  was  thick 
and  black  and  knobby,  and  the  skin  of  his  neck  and 
legs  was  thick  and  black  and  warty.  His  claws  were 
long  and  curving,  and  as  with  his  head  he  slowly  fol- 
lowed Bob's  antics,  his  deep-set  eyes  fairly  flashed 
sparks,  while  he  held  his  formidable  mouth  half  open, 
as  if  hankering  for  a  bite  out  of  one  of  Bob's 
legs.  How  he  hissed,  with  a  hoarse,  gaspy  hiss  !  He 
was  so  enraged  that  he  filled  the  air  with  a  musky 
odor. 

"  Isn't  he  a  whopper,  though  ! "  exclaimed  Ned, 
grasping  Bob,  who,  at  the  arrival  of  reinforcements, 
had  waxed  altogether  too  fierce  for  safety. 

"  I'd  hate  to  have  him  get  hold  of  me  !  "  asserted 
Hal,  poking  at  the  monster  with  a  stick.  The  turtle 
seized  the  stick  with  such  a  grip  that  he  jerked  it  out 
of  Hal's  hands,  and  Mr.  Hal  involuntarily  jumped  back 
a  pace. 

"  Well,  I  guess  we  aren't  wanted  here,"  remarked 
Ned,  laughing.  "  Come  on,  Bob." 

"  Keep  the  stick,"  called  back  Hal,  as,  dragging 
the  reluctant  Bob,  they  moved  off,  leaving  the  turtle, 


go  Beaufort  Chums 

his  jaws  firmly  clamped  upon  the  piece  of  wood,  in 
possession  of  the  field  of  battle. 

Having  secured  a  supply  of  the  hapless  frogs,  the 
boys  took  a  short  cut  to  pay  their  respects  to  Sam 
and  Joe.  Bob,  after  pretending  that  he  was  going 
back  to  have  it  out  with  the  turtle,  finally  cooled 
down  and  trotted  along  with  them.  But  he  could 
not  be  induced  to  approach  the  shanty,  and  with  an 
eye  out  for  the  brindled  dog  sat  at  a  distance  and 
sorrowfully  waited. 

Sam  was  on  the  muddy  beach,  mending  the  seine  ; 
Joe  was  moulding  dough-balls,  on  the  bench  in  front 
of  the  cabin. 

"  Good-morning,"  said  the  boys. 

"  Mornin',"  replied  Joe. 

From  the  shady  side  of  the  shanty  the  brindled 
dog  growled ;  from  the  beach  Sam  nodded. 

"  How's  fishin'  ?  "  asked  Joe. 

"  Pretty  good,"  answered  Ned.  "  Only,  we  over- 
slept." 

"  Thought  you  did.  Seen  you  weren't  up  when 
we  went  out,  'bout  five  o'clock,"  said  Joe. 

"  Going  to  try  the  net  ?  "  inquired  Hal,  looking  at 
Sam  and  his  task. 

"  Yes,  thought  we'd  make  a  haul  or  two  'crost  the 
river  this  afternoon,"  informed  Joe.  "  Ever  see  a  big 
seine  laid  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  said  Ned. 

"  I  haven't,"  said  Hal. 

"  Better  come  along,  then,"  invited  Joe. 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       91 

"  All  right — much  obliged,"  responded  Ned  and 
Hal.  "What  time?" 

"  Oh,  some'ers  after  dinner  toward  the  shank  o'  the 
afternoon,"  replied  Joe.  "  You  watch,  an'  when  you 
see  us  gettin'  ready,  you  come  down." 

With  this  in  prospect  the  boys  gleefully  returned 
to  camp,  to  run  their  trot-lines  and  to  have  an  early 
dinner.  The  running  of  the  lines  was  not  especially 
a  success,  the  haul  being  only  two  catfish ;  but  the 
dinner  was  a  great  success,  being  baked  potatoes  and 
fried  pickerel,  pressed  beef  and  coffee,  and  with 
dessert  of  toasted  bread  dipped  in  canned  blue- 
berries. 

Before  Sam  and  Joe  showed  signs  of  starting  out, 
the  boys  had  time  to  fit  up  a  stove,  by  digging  a  hole 
in  the  top  of  the  bank,  covering  it  with  a  piece  of 
sheet  iron,  and  making  an  entrance  at  right  angles, 
for  fuel  and  draft. 

It  was  quite  a  luxury  to  loll  back,  Ned  against  the 
mass  of  net  heaped  upon  the  fish-box  built  into  the 
broad  stern,  and  Hal  in  the  narrowing  bows,  while 
Sam  and  Joe  sped  the  boat  across  the  ripply,  spark- 
ling river.  Soon  the  wordy,  left-handed  compli- 
ments being  exchanged  between  Bob,  on  guard  at 
the  grape  arbor,  and  the  brindled  dog,  on  guard  at 
the  shanty,  died  away  in  the  distance,  and  the 
eastern  shore  of  the  Mississippi  came  into  plain 
view. 

The  boat  landed  on  a  wide,  shelving,  sandy  beach, 
over  which  rose  a  line  of  bluffs.  Hal  piled  ashore, 


92  Beaufort  Chums 

followed  by  Sam,  but  Ned  stayed  in  the  stern  and 
offered  to  "  pay  out "  the  net. 

One  end  of  the  seine  was  passed  to  Sam,  on  shore ; 
and  then  Joe  slowly  pulled  away  in  a  great  circle,  the 
seine  dropping,  fold  after  fold,  into  the  water  behind. 
Ned  held  himself  ready  to  loosen  any  tangle;  but 
there  were  no  tangles.  The  net  had  been  coiled  just 
right,  and  he  was  not  needed. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  lay  the  thousand  foot  net, 
and  Joe  managed  so  well  that  when  the  circle, 
marked  by  its  slender  line  of  round  corks,  was  com- 
plete, the  boat  was  at  the  shore  just  below  its  former 
landing  place.  Weighted  by  lead  at  the  bottom,  and 
buoyed  by  corks  at  the  top,  the  net  now  hung 
straight  down  from  the  surface,  and  formed  a  meshy 
wall. 

Sam  and  Joe  began  to  haul  in,  evenly  and  swiftly, 
from  one  end.  Yard  after  yard  the  wet  weave  piled 
on  the  beach,  and  the  circle  gradually,  but  none  the 
less  surely,  lessened. 

"  Looks  like  a  water-haul,"  commented  Joe  to 
Sam,  scanning  the  water  inside  the  circle  for  signs  of 
prisoners. 

"  Humph  ! "  replied  Sam. 

The  line  of  corks  was  now  short  and  near,  and  still 
there  had  been  not  a  single  struggle  to  pass  them. 
The  surface  stayed  placid  and  smiling. 

"  Humph  !  "  again  said  Sam. 

The  boys  did  not  give  up,  but  continued  to  gaze 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       93 

hopefully.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  there  was 
nothing  in  the  net. 

However,  such  was  the  case. 

"  Water-haul !  "  declared  Joe,  finally. 

"  Humph,"  repeated  Sam. 

"  Pshaw  ! "  exclaimed  the  boys,  with  disappoint- 
ment, eyeing  the  empty  seine  as  it  lay  on  the  sand. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  '  water-haul '  ?  "  queried 
Hal. 

"  Water's  all  we  got,  ain't  it,  sonny  ?  "  responded 
Sam,  sourly,  throwing  the  net  by  armfuls  into  the 
boat. 

"  I  reckon  we  don't  try  again  till  the  moon 
changes,"  hinted  Joe,  with  a  sly  wink  at  Ned.  But 
as  Hal  refused  to  be  hoaxed  into  asking  more  ques- 
tions, after  a  slight  pause  he  continued : 

"  Sam  an'  me  have  got  to  go  up  to  Newton  for 
provisions  an'  stuff.  You  boys  can  go  or  you  can 
stay  an'  we'll  take  you  in  comin'  back." 

Newton  was  a  river  hamlet  about  two  miles  above. 

"  Better  let  'em  stay,"  advised  Sam,  whom  the 
"  water-haul "  appeared  to  have  made  very  grumpy. 
"  We've  got  enough  to  pull  against  the  current,  with- 
out them  in  too." 

"  We'll  stay,  of  course,"  spoke  Ned. 

"  How  long  will  you  be  gone  ?  "  inquired  Hal. 

"  Oh,  jest  for  a  spell,"  replied  Joe. 

"  Don't  you  forget  us,"  said  Ned. 

"  Do  you  think  they  will  ? "  asked  Hal,  growing 
nervous  as  he  watched  the  two  fishermen  row  away. 


94  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Of  course  not !  "  assured  Ned.  "  Say — I  tell 
you  what  we'll  do.  Let's  climb  the  bluffs,  and  while 
we're  exploring  we  can  see  Sam  and  Joe  when 
they're  coming  back." 

The  river  side  of  the  bluffs  had  been  cut  away  by 
running  water  until  in  many  places  the  bare  lime- 
stone was  exposed,  to  form  perpendicular  cliffs.  Be- 
tween these  cliffs  were  little  gullies,  thickly  matted 
with  the  wild  strawberry,  the  wild  morning  glory,  the 
violet,  and  a  thousand  other  woodland  plants,  all 
growing  independent  of  man.  Graceful  and  stately, 
against  the  gray  walls  rose  and  drooped  the  rock 
honeysuckle. 

Eager  to  reach  the  crest,  the  boys  scaled  from  foot- 
hold to  foothold,  and  hot  and  breathless,  speedily 
emerged  upon  the  top.  Here  they  stood  and  looked 
down  upon  the  bird's-eye  view  of  land  and  water. 

At  their  feet  was  the  beach,  much  reduced  in  size, 
where  they  had  witnessed  the  "  water-haul."  North 
and  south  stretched  the  river,  a  broad  ribbon  of  blue 
emblazoned  with  silver,  and  rent  here  and  there  by 
islands.  Beyond,  directly  opposite  them,  was  the 
mouth  of  the  Monga,  just  above  which,  they  knew, 
was  the  shanty  and  the  brindled  dog,  and  still  farther 
above,  the  grape  arbor  and  Bob. 

On  the  hither  side  of  the  river  Sam  and  Joe  were 
plainly  visible,  making  their  way,  in  their  skiff,  along 
the  shore  line,  where  the  shallows  reduced  the  force 
of  the  current. 

"  My,  but  this  is  pretty,  isn't  it !  "  sighed  Hal. 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       95 

"  I  should  say  so  !  "  agreed  Ned.  "  I  don't  blame 
the  Indians  any  for  hating  the  white  men  who  made 
them  give  it  up." 

The  two  boys  strolled  along  the  crest,  sparsely 
wooded  with  sentinel  oaks,  and  covered  with  short 
turf  which  furnished  forage  for  a  few  horses. 

They  had  not  gone  far  when  they  came  upon  quite 
a  hole  or  pit,  extending  down  through  the  black  for- 
est loam  into  the  yellow  clay  beneath. 

"  Why  was  this  dug,  do  you  suppose?"  remarked 
Hal. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Ned,  gazing  into  it,  and  pon- 
dering. 

"  There's  another,"  cried  Hal,  pointing  ahead. 

So  there  was,  and  still  another  was  visible,  farther 
on. 

"  I  tell  you — these  are  Indian  mounds,  and  people 
have  been  opening  them  to  see  what's  inside,"  ex- 
claimed Ned,  positively. 

"  But  I  don't  see  much  <  mound  '  about  them,"  ob- 
jected Hal. 

However,  a  series  of  gentle  little  rises  could  be 
made  out,  each  with  its  blunt  top  laid  open,  and  its 
sides  disfigured  by  heaps  of  dirt. 

"  What  do  they  find  in  them  ?  "  asked  Hal. 

"  Oh,  skeletons,  and  arrow-heads,  and  things,"  in- 
formed Ned.  "  But  you  have  to  dig  good  and  deep ; 
twenty  feet,  I  guess." 

The  boys  scanned  with  a  thrill  of  awe  these  relics 
of  a  passed  people  who  loved  thus  to  inter  their 


96  Beaufort  Chums 

chiefs  on  some  lofty  outlook,  commanding  wood  and 
stream. 

"  It  must  have  been  mighty  long  ago,"  mused  Hal. 
"  Here's  a  stump  of  a  tree  that  grew  right  out  of  the 
middle  of  one." 

He  fell  to  work  counting  the  rings. 

"  Two  hundred  and  sixty  !  "  he  announced. 

"  Gee  !  "  blurted  Ned.  "  Come  on,"  he  proposed, 
after  a  moment  which  both  required  in  order  fully  to 
grasp  the  message  of  the  stump.  "  Let's  poke  around 
inside  of  one,  and  perhaps  we'll  find  some  arrow- 
heads and  stuff." 

He  picked  up  a  stout  piece  of  branch,  with  a  sharp 
end,  and  slid  down  into  the  first  pit ;  Hal,  similarly 
equipped,  slid  after. 

The  boys  wielded  their  sticks  well,  but  no  trophies 
resulted.  Evidently  the  mound  had  been  well  cleaned 
out,  and  nothing  missed.  They  proceeded  to  the 
next,  and  the  next.  Time  sped  more  rapidly  than 
they  were  aware  of.  Suddenly  Ned  straightened  up, 
in  the  third  mound,  and  exclaimed : 

"  Say,  Hal,  do  you  know  it's  getting  dark  ?  " 

They  hastily  scrambled  out  of  the  hole.  Not  only 
was  the  sun  low,  but  it  was  cloaked  by  a  mass  of 
dense,  black  cloud  unfolding  swiftly  toward  the  zenith. 
An  ominous  growl  of  thunder  rolled  up  the  sky. 
Birds  were  twittering  uneasily,  and  the  slight  breeze 
had  died  entirely  away. 

"  Great  Caesar  !  "  cried  Hal.  "  I  bet  Sam  and  Joe 
have  gone  by,  and  we  haven't  seen  them  ! " 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       97 

"  No,  they  wouldn't  do  that.  They'd  look  for  us, 
and  yell !  "  assured  Ned,  stanchly.  "  But  we're  going 
to  have  a  big  thunder-storm,  that's  sure." 

"  I  wish  they'd  come,"  murmured  Hal,  plaintively. 

"  Maybe  they'll  wait  until  after  the  storm,"  re- 
sponded Ned.  "  Anyway,  we've  got  to  find  some 
place  where  we  can  keep  kind  of  dry,  and  watch  the 
river,  too." 

"  Don't  you  remember  that  cave  we  saw  when  we 
were  climbing  up  ?  "  asked  Hal,  struck  with  an  idea. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  that  ?  " 

Nothing  was  the  matter  with  it.  It  was  a  cavity 
worn  out  under  a  jutting  slab  of  limestone — much  as 
though  the  sloping  ground  had  fallen  away  at  this 
point.  There  was  plenty  of  room  to  sit  upright,  for 
some  distance  back  in  it. 

A  short  time  the  boys  sat  on  their  roof,  so  to 
speak,  and  hung  their  legs  over  the  edge  of  the  slab, 
while  they  noted  the  approach  of  the  storm.  Swiftly 
the  cloud  marched  onward,  foot  by  foot  blotting  out 
the  blue.  Vivid  lightning  played  through  the  billows 
of  heavy  vapor,  and  the  thunder  pealed  and  mum- 
bled. 

Nearer  came  the  devouring  line  of  black.  Birds 
were  flying  for  shelter.  A  fresh  breeze  sprang  up, 
blowing  toward  the  advancing  giant,  as  if  he  were 
sucking  in  the  air.  The  river,  upon  which  appeared 
not  a  sign  of  Sam  and  Joe,  changed  from  silver  to 
dull  lead  frosted  by  a  multitude  of  white-caps. 

"  It's   pretty  grand,  isn't  it ! "  commented    Ned, 


98  Beaufort  Chums 

struck  with  the  majesty  of  the  storm,  and  with  the 
novelty  of  their  plight. 

"  Y-yes,"  replied  Hal ;  who,  nevertheless,  preferred 
to  look  upon  the  scene,  however  grand,  from  the 
neighborhood  of  some  convenient  house. 

Until  the  very  last  moment  they  sat  here ;  then, 
with  the  first  spattering  drops  of  rain,  they  dived  for 
shelter.  With  flare  of  lightning,  and  crackle  of 
thunder,  and  roar  of  wind,  the  rain  descended  in 
torrents ;  but  only  a  whiff  of  spray  now  and  then 
reached  the  boys,  tucked  in  the  farthermost  recess 
of  their  cave. 

It  seemed  as  though  the  rain  never  would  abate, 
for  as  often  as  it  slackened,  and  the  boys  took  hope, 
so  often  it  was  sure  to  be  swelled  by  a  gust  of  rein- 
forcements. But  finally  it  died  to  a  drizzle,  and 
Ned  made  bold  to  slip  out  and  take  a  survey. 

The  storm  was  over,  practically,  but  the  dusk  of 
evening  was  settling  down  in  earnest. 

"  Who-oo-oo-oo-ee-ee  !  "  shouted  Ned,  thinking 
that  perhaps  Sam  and  Joe  might  be  within  hearing, 
although  he  did  not  see  any  skiff. 

No  answer. 

Hal  came  out,  and  joined  him  in  another  call, 
which  brought  no  response  but  the  echoes.  Op- 
pressed by  the  dampness  and  the  rapidly  waxing 
gloom,  the  boys  felt  a  strange  desolation. 

"  I  wonder  how  Bob  liked  the  storm,"  spoke  Ned, 
trying  to  be  cheerful.  "  He  must  have  been  scared  ! " 

"  And  all  our  things  are  just  sopping !     We  left 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds       99 

our  blankets  out  to  dry,  you  know,"  mourned 
Hal. 

"  Say ! "  on  the  instant  exclaimed  Ned,  fumbling 
in  his  pockets.  "  Do  you  know,  I  left  my  knife  up 
there  by  one  of  those  holes !  " 

"  Oh,  you  can't  find  it,  now,"  objected  Hal,  who 
somehow  did  not  fancy  being  deserted,  even  for  a 
moment,  in  this  weird  spot. 

"  Yes,  I  can,"  flung  back  Ned,  scrambling  up  the 
wet  slope,  and  anon  slipping  and  stumbling.  "  It's 
by  the  second  hole,  where  I  sharpened  my 
stick." 

Ned  gained  the  crest  at  the  same  point  where  he 
and  Hal  had  come  out  when  they  had  climbed  be- 
fore. It  was  very  still,  up  here ;  only  the  drip,  drip, 
from  the  trees,  and  the  soughing  of  the  wind,  break- 
ing the  quiet.  It  also  was  much  darker  and  lone- 
somer  than  he  had  expected  it  would  be,  but  he 
bravely  trudged  forward  along  the  edge  of  the  bluff 
toward  the  old  mounds. 

He  started  to  whistle,  but  his  "  Marching  Through 
Georgia  "  came  to  an  abrupt  stop  right  in  the  middle 
of  the  first  chorus.  What  uncanny,  harrowing  sound 
was  that  ?  He  halted,  with  one  foot  upraised,  and 
peered  ahead. 

He  was  nearing  the  first  of  the  opened  mounds, 
when  rising  apparently  out  of  the  second  he  descried 
a  dim,  white  Thing,  spectral,  wavering,  menacing  him 
with  a  series  of  ghastly  noises. 

The  goose-flesh  sprang  out  all  over  Ned's  body, 


loo  Beaufort  Chums 

as  if  he  had  been  in  swimming  too  long,  a  weakness 
seized  on  his  knees,  and  he  imagined  that  his  hair 
was  rising  under  his  battered  felt  hat. 

It  occurred  to  him  that,  rightfully  enough,  the 
Indians  did  not  approve  of  having  their  remains, 
which  had  slumbered  through  two  centuries  and  a 
half,  exposed  by  means  of  spades  and  crooked  sticks 
in  the  hands  of  the  pale-face.  And  having  cau- 
tiously retreated  backward,  step  by  step,  suddenly 
he  turned  and  bolted  as  hard  as  he  could  run  !  He 
didn't  want  his  jack-knife. 

Guided  through  the  blackness  more  by  guesswork 
than  by  sight,  over  the  edge  of  the  bluff  he  plunged, 
and  fell,  rather  than  ran,  to  the  cave  and  the  arms 
of  Hal. 

Hal  had  heard  him  coming,  and  received  him  with 
concern. 

"  What's  the  matter,  what's  the  matter  ?  "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  There — there's  something  white  and  funny  in 
one  of  the  mounds  !  "  panted  Ned.  "  When  it  saw 
me  coming  it  made  a  noise  at  me — a  regular  ghost- 
noise — and — and  I  lit  out." 

"  Aw,  shucks  !  "  scoffed  Hal. 

"  Well,  you  go  up  with  me,  and  I'll  show  you," 
declared  Ned,  indignant.  "  Those  mounds  are  graves, 
you  know." 

Up  he  went,  again,  Hal  readily  accompanying. 

"  Listen  !  "  whispered  Ned,  clutching  him  by  the 
coat  sleeve,  when  they  had  reached  the  top. 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds     101 

Those  same  dreadful  sounds  were  being  borne  to 
them,  amid  the  wailing  of  the  night  wind. 

Hal  caught  him  by  the  hand. 

"  Sh  ! "  cautioned  Ned ;  and  they  softly  stole  for- 
ward, their  heart  in  their  mouth. 

Yes,  the  white  Thing  was  there,  just  as  Ned  had 
predicted.  They  didn't  go  very  near. 

Hal  gave  back  a  yard,  and  so  did  Ned.  They 
were  poised,  all  prepared  to  run  like  deer  if  a  hostile 
movement  was  made  against  them,  when  from  the 
beach  below  arose  to  them  a  strenuous  yodling : 

"  Oooo-dle — loo-die — loo-die — loo-die !  " 

Sam  and  Joe !     The  call  broke  the  spell. 

"  Oooo-dle  —  loo-die —  loo-die — loo-die  !  "  yodled 
the  boys,  fleeing  as  they  shouted.  Never  had  signal 
been  so  welcome. 

"Thought  we'd  left  you  here  for  good,  didn't 
you  ? "  queried  Joe,  when,  having  been  piloted  by 
shouts  and  a  waving  lantern  the  boys,  stumbling, 
slipping,  leaping,  brought  up  beside  the  skiff,  at  the 
water's  edge. 

"  Say "  hailed  Ned,  with  scant  ceremony, 

"  there's  some  Indian  graves  up  on  the  bluff,  dug 
open,  and  now  it's  dark  there's  a  big  white  thing  in 
one  of  them,  and  we  don't  know  what  it  is." 

"  It  made  an  awful  noise  at  us,  and  we  think  it's  a 
ghost,"  added  Hal. 

"  Wa-al,  I'd  like  to  look  at  it,"  drawled  Joe.  "  I 
never  seen  a  ghost.  Want  to  take  a  squint  at  it, 
Sam  ?  " 


1O2  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Naw/'  replied  Sam.  "  1  wouldn't  climb  them 
bluffs  for  ten  thousand  ghosts  !  " 

Joe,  lantern  in  hand,  strode  to  the  foot  of  the  bluff. 

"  If  it's  the  genu-ine  article,  throw  it  down,  an'  I'll 
pass  jedgment  on  it,"  called  Sam,  after  him.  "  A 
hundred  foot  drop  won't  hurt  a  real  ghost  any,  I 
reckon." 

With  Hal  and  Ned  close  at  his  heels  Joe  ascended 
the  steep  slope,  and  at  the  top,  warned  by  the  two 
boys,  paused  to  listen. 

"  There,"  whispered  his  companions,  breathlessly, 
as  upon  the  thick  air  floated  the  mysterious  sounds. 

"  By  gorry,  the  noises  are  genu-ine,  all  right,"  mut- 
tered Joe,  astonished,  and  making  in  the  direction 
whence  they  seemed  to  come. 

"  Perhaps  the  lantern  will  put  it  out,  so  he  won't 
see  it,"  whispered  Hal  to  Ned,  vaguely  suspicious  that 
ghosts  cannot  stand  the  light. 

«  Sh  !  "  bade  Ned. 

However,  the  white  thing  was  in  the  same  position 
as  when  they  last  had  seen  it.  Joe  never  paused,  but 
walked  right  ahead,  and  boldly  swung  his  lantern 
forward,  reckless  of  consequences. 

The  boys,  hard  behind  him,  fully  expected  to  be- 
hold some  unearthly,  awesome  shape  exposed  to 
view. 

With  a  shock,  partly  of  relief,  partly  of  disappoint- 
ment, they  found  themselves  gazing  upon  the  pro- 
truding eyes,  inquiring  ears,  kindly  face,  and  flow- 
ing main  and  forelock,  of  a  white  horse,  while 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds     103 

from  his  nostrils  issued  strange  snorts  of  appeal  and 
alarm. 

Only  his  head  was  visible  above  the  mound.  The 
remainder  of  him  was  inside. 

"  Oh,  gee  !  "  exclaimed  both  boys,  in  chagrin,  wish- 
ing that  they,  instead  of  the  horse,  were  in  the  hole 
— and  out  of  sight. 

Joe  doubled  over  in  a  fit  of  laughter  that  caused 
him  fairly  to  shake  and  wobble  on  his  feet. 

"  Whoopee  !  Whoopee ! "  he  gasped.  "  Nothin'  but 
an  old  white  hoss,  got  stuck  in  a  hole.  Or  mebbe 
it's  the  hoss  the  Injun  used  to  ride,  and  had  buried 
with  him,  and  it's  his  night  to  come  out.  P'raps  to- 
morrer  night'll  be  the  Injun's  turn." 

"  It— it  looked  like  a  ghost,"  faltered  Hal.  Ned 
was  tongue-tied  in  his  shame. 

"  Git  out  o'  here ! "  urged  Joe,  circling  the  animal, 
and  smiting  him  suddenly  on  the  flank. 

Under  this  sudden  spur,  with  a  grunt,  a  heave, 
and  a  volley  of  loud  snorts,  the  horse,  awakening 
from  his  silly  lapse  into  helplessness,  all  at  once 
plunged  and  reared,  and  was  at  last  again  on  hard 
ground.  Forthwith  he  began  to  graze. 

"  Now  there's  room  for  the  Injun  to  pop  out,  when 
he  wants  to,"  chuckled  Joe.  "  Come  on,  you  ghost- 
finders,  so  he  won't  be  afraid." 

And,  followed  meekly  by  Hal  and  Ned,  he  re- 
turned to  the  boat. 

Oh,  how  Sam  jeered  ! 

He  and  Joe  never  forgot.     And  thereafter,  when- 


104  Beaufort  Chums 

ever  they  chanced  upon  Hal  or  Ned  they  would  be 
sure  to  ask,  slyly : 

"  Seen  any  ghosts  lately  ?  " 

As  if  to  atone  for  his  past  ill-nature,  as  they  pulled 
in  at  the  shanty  landing,  Sam — who  really  had  a  very 
kind  heart — said,  gruffly  : 

"  You  kids  had  better  stop  for  a  snack  with  us. 
Steak  an'  taters  is  all  we  got,  but  that  grape-arbor 
camp  o'  yourn  must  be  nigh  drowned." 

The  boys,  with  some  misgivings  lest  Bob  should 
find  out,  and  feel  hurt,  accepted  the  invitation  ;  and 
Hal  frankly  yielded  the  palm  to  Sam  as  a  cook. 

This  seemed  to  tickle  Sam  more  than  anything 
else. 

"  Wa-al,  I  do  know  how  to  cook,  a  bit,"  he  granted, 
"  seein'  as  I've  cooked  for  Joe  an'  me  for  twenty  odd 
year." 

Carrying  a  bone  which  Sam  sent,  with  his  compli- 
ments, to  "  the  dog,"  finally  they  arrived  at  their 
camp.  Bob  wanted  to  know  where  on  earth  they 
had  been  so  long — but  was  hushed,  in  the  midst  of 
his  noisy  remarks,  by  the  bone. 

The  camp,  as  Sam  had  predicted,  was  "  drowned." 
Nevertheless,  the  sun  would  repair  all  damage,  inas- 
much as  the  bread,  the  tenderest  article  of  food  in 
their  cupboard,  fortunately  had  escaped  the  wetting. 

Before  a  huge  bonfire  the  boys  partially  dried 
their  blankets,  and  then  retired  to  the  near-by  horse- 
shed  to  sleep. 

Ere   the  mosquitoes  had   fully  found   them   they 


THE  GHOST  OF  THE  INDIAN  MOOND'S.  '"'  ' 


The  Ghost  of  the  Indian  Mounds     105 

were  beyond  annoyance,  and  roundly  snoring,  while 
about  their  heads  the  little  wood  mice  rustled  through 
the  straw. 

Not  until  morning  did  it  occur  to  them  that  they 
had  not  found  the  missing  knife ! 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  COUNTY  FAIR 

THE  boys  stayed  at  Rock  Creek  ten  days. 
At  last  they  were  completely  out  of  bait ; 
the  little  marsh  had  been  scoured  clean  of 
frogs,  and  even  the  snakes  had  deserted  it ;  every 
stone  and  log  had  been  overturned,  for  crawfish  ; 
they  had  been  driven  to  bacon-rind,  which  was  too 
hard,  and  to  dogfish  flesh,  pressed  beef,  and  bits  of 
bread  tied  in  mosquito  netting,  all  of  which  were  too 
soft.  Their  provisions  were  reduced  to  a  few  beans 
and  a  can  of  peaches,  and  the  fish  in  the  fish-box. 
Their  clothing  was  much  the  worse  for  hard  service ; 
so  were  their  faces  and  hands. 

They  decided,  suddenly,  to  go  home. 

Thereupon,  one  morning  they  ran  their  faithful 
trot-lines  for  the  last  time ;  took  them  up,  not 
without  regrets ;  ate  an  early  dinner,  principally 
of  beans  and  canned  peaches  ;  and  by  noon  had 
their  camp  broken,  which  was  an  easy  matter,  con- 
sidering that  their  blankets  and  their  cooking  uten- 
sils were  about  all  the  outfit  that  had  survived.  They 
cleaned  for  market  the  forty  fish,  mostly  cats,  im- 
prisoned in  their  fish-box,  and  packed  them  in  an  old 
cask,  with  a  chunk  of  ice,  donated  by  Sam  and  Joe, 

106 


The  County  Fair  107 

on  the  top  under  a  piece  of  canvas.  At  half-past  six 
they  were  sculling  to  the  government  light  on  the 
peninsula,  with  Sam  and  Joe  waving  farewell  from 
in  front  of  the  shanty,  and  with  Bob,  in  the  stern  of 
the  boat,  defiantly  barking  back  across  the  water  at 
the  brindled  dog,  and  telling  him  what  he  (Bob) 
would  have  done  had  he  (Bob)  remained  only  a  day 
longer. 

Soon  the  Harriett  hove  in  sight  around  the  bend 
below,  and  swinging  in  at  their  bandanna  handker- 
chief signal,  stopped  for  them  to  hustle  aboard. 

By  eight  o'clock  they  were  at  Beaufort,  and  had 
astonished  Commodore  Jones  by  lugging  their  cask 
of  fish  upon  his  quarter-deck — that  is,  his  fish-market 
platform — and  demanding  payment. 

As  a  result  of  the  bargain,  they  came  out  gainers 
fifty  cents  each,  over  and  above  their  passage  money 
both  ways  on  the  Harriett ! 

The  first  half  of  the  long  vacation  was  now  gone, 
and  what  with  swimming  and  baseball  and  short 
jaunts  after  sunfish  and  croppies,  and  other  amuse- 
ments furnished  by  field  and  river,  the  last  half  also 
quickly  passed. 

As  a  glorious  wind-up  to  the  Beaufort  youths' 
summer  of  fun,  with  the  closing  week  of  vacation 
came  the  county  fair.  This  was  an  annual  event, 
and  was  held  on  grounds  maintained  for  the  purpose 
upon  the  outskirts  of  the  town ;  and  year  to  year 
Beaufort  people,  old  as  well  as  young,  looked  for- 
ward to  it  with  much  interest. 


io8  Beaufort  Chums 

Ned  went,  of  course.  And  this  year  Bob  went, 
too.  It  was  his  burning  ambition  to  go  everywhere 
that  Ned  did ;  and  in  the  case  of  school  and  church, 
this  created  some  embarrassment. 

Considering  that  probably  it  was  his  first  fair,  and 
that  there  were  numerous  temptations  in  the  shape 
of  fat  pigs  with  ears  delicious  to  bite,  and  cows  and 
sheep  just  prime  to  be  chased,  and  countless  farmers' 
dogs  ripe  to  be  taught  town  manners,  he  behaved 
very  well  indeed. 

He  and  Ned  covered  the  entire  exhibition.  They 
did  not  miss  a  single  item,  although  there  were  a 
number  of  things  for  which  they  did  not  care  a  bit. 
They  inspected  the  live-stock  pens  (where  the  pigs 
and  cattle  nearly  drove  Bob  to  distraction) ;  they 
traversed  machinery  hall,  and  poultry  hall,  and  all 
the  other  halls ;  and  in  particular  they  explored  the 
hall  of  arts.  Here,  worming  their  way  through  the 
crowd  they  gazed  with  watering  mouth — at  least, 
Ned's  mouth  watered,  and  Bob's  still  dripped  in 
memory  of  the  porkine  ears  elsewhere — upon 
strained  honey,  and  rich  cheeses,  and  jellies  and 
preserves  and  cakes  and  doughnuts  and  cookies 
and  other  marvels  into  which  ambitious  good- 
wives  had  put  their  whole  hearts.  Ned  sought 
this  building  several  times;  he  had  vague  hopes 
that  in  some  way  he  might  encounter  the  judg- 
ing committee,  and  be  invited  to  help  "  taste." 

A  close  second  in  interest  to  this  display  was  that 
of  floral  hall,  where  the  flowers  themselves  were 


The  County  Fair  109 

rivaled  in  hues  by  apples  and  peaches  and  plums 
and  cherries  and  pears  and  grapes,  in  luscious 
pyramids. 

These  two  halls  were  extraordinary  places  for  get- 
ting up  an  appetite ! 

However,  one  did  not  need  to  depend  upon  the 
stock  pens  and  the  various  "  halls  "  for  one's  enter- 
tainment. Outside  there  was  endless  variety,  and 
the  air  was  constantly  athrill  with  excitement.  All 
day  a  throng  of  shows  in  tents  did  a  loud  and  ur- 
gent business,  inviting  the  people  far  and  near  by 
banjo  and  gong  and  word  of  mouth  to  come  in  and 
see  snakes  and  wild  men  and  bearded  women  and 
giants  and  dwarfs,  and  the  like,  whose  wondrous 
figures  were  outlined  in  gay  colors  upon  the  canvas 
without.  These  shows  formed  a  long  street,  lined 
with  the  pictured  marvels,  and  alive  with  shouts  of : 

"  Hi  yi  yi  yi !  Walk  in,  walk  in !  Great  free 
show,  only  ten  cents,  half  a  dime  !  " 

"  Right  this  way  !  Everybody !  Come  every- 
body !  Biggest  show  for  the  money  in  the  world  !  " 

"  Stop  !  Stop  !  Stop  !  Don't  miss  it !  We  are 
the  people  !  A  whole  circus  for  only  ten  cents  !  " 

Every  morning  there  was  a  parade  around  the  race 
track  of  prize- winning  animals,  where  horses  pranced, 
bulls  roared  defiantly,  and  donkeys  brayed  and 
kicked. 

Every  afternoon  at  one  o'clock  there  was  a  balloon 
ascension ;  and  at  two  o'clock  began  trotting  and 
running  races. 


no  Beaufort  Chums 

Not  to  miss  anything  on  the  fair  grounds  kept  a 
boy  and  dog  hustling,  although  they  went  every  day 
— which  they  didn't.  Still,  by  virtue  of  the  addition 
to  his  funds  of  that  fifty  cents  fish  money,  Ned  man- 
aged to  go  oftener  than  in  any  previous  year. 

Most  fascinating  was  the  balloon  ascension.  All 
through  the  morning  the  balloon  lay,  a  mass  of  inert, 
dirty,  rubbery  cloth,  on  the  ground  at  the  spot 
whence  the  ascent  was  to  be  made.  It  always  was 
surrounded  by  curious  people,  who  looked  upon  it 
with  awe,  but  who  were  kept  from  fingering  it  by  a 
rope  staked  about  it. 

A  little  after  twelve  the  program  of  filling  it  with 
gas  began.  Slowly  the  dull  heap  inflated,  until  no 
longer  was  it  inert ;  it  swayed  and  struggled,  instinct 
with  life. 

The  aeronaut,  arrayed  in  tights  of  pink,  with  a 
spangled  sash  about  his  waist,  came  out  from  a  little 
tent,  and  while  all  eyes  scanned  him  admiringly,  in- 
spected the  progress  of  the  work.  He  was  a  slender, 
alert  man,  with  a  tawny  moustache,  and  keen  glance. 
Finally  the  balloon  towered  like  a  gigantic  pear  over 
the  heads  of  the  throng,  and  strained  to  be  free.  It 
was  held  by  a  single  rope,  passing  over  the  top,  one 
end  tied  to  a  stout  stick  and  the  other  held  by  sturdy 
assistants.  The  rope  made  a  crease  in  the  bulging, 
puffy  dome. 

Suddenly  the  aeronaut,  having  tested  certain  fast- 
enings and  knots,  commanded  sharply : 

"  Let  go  !  " 


The  County  Fair  111 

The  persons  holding  the  rope  released  it.  It 
slipped  over  the  top.  Amid  shrill  cheers  and  the 
hum  of  voices  the  balloon  darted  upward,  dragging 
after  it  a  trapeze,  and  there,  below  the  trapeze,  was 
the  aeronaut,  hanging  by  a  slender  cord.  Up  the 
cord  he  nimbly  climbed,  like  a  monkey,  and  sitting 
upon  the  bar  of  the  trapeze,  while  the  balloon  con- 
tinued its  dizzy  flight,  kissed  his  hand  to  the  gazing 
multitude  beneath.  Then  he  performed  a  number  of 
acrobatic  feats,  and  later  lit  somewhere,  balloon  and 
all,  to  appear  and  repeat  the  program  the  next  day. 

Ned  wondered  how  it  felt.  He  was  soon  to  find 
out. 

From  the  first  he  had  simply  burned  to  catch  hold 
of  the  rope,  and  help  keep  the  balloon  down.  But 
other  boys  who  had  volunteered  had  been  roughly 
rejected  by  the  aeronaut,  so  Ned  could  only  push  as 
near  as  possible,  and  be  all  ready. 

It  was  the  closing  day  of  the  fair,  and  the  last  of 
the  ascensions  was  about  to  occur.  The  balloon  was 
filled  and  buoyant,  and  a  fresh  breeze  was  causing  it 
to  tug  unusually  at  the  one  rope.  The  men  holding 
the  rope  down  were  almost  lifted,  at  times,  off  their 
feet.  It  was  a  tug  of  war  between  the  balloon  and 
them,  and  the  balloon  seemed  likely  to  have  the  best 
of  it. 

"  Here,  you  people ;  some  of  you  give  us  a  hand 
on  that  rope,  will  you  ?  "  appealed  the  aeronaut. 

At  least  half  a  score — many  more  than  were 
needed — sprang  over  into  the  enclosure;  among 


112  Beaufort  Chums 

them  were  Ned  and  Bob.  Only  three  or  four  could 
find  room  on  the  rope — and  among  these  was  Ned. 
Thus,  at  length,  he  was  where  he  had  wanted  to  be. 

The  aeronaut  was  too  busy  to  pay  any  attention. 

"  Now — let  go  !  "  he  ordered,  suddenly. 

As  the  words  were  leaving  his  mouth,  this  is  what 
happened :  Wrenched  by  a  sudden  fierce  gust  of  wind 
the  stake  to  which  the  balloon  was  anchored  was  torn 
from  the  earth ;  the  people  who  had  been  braced  at 
the  other  end  of  the  rope  sat  down  hard.  The  bal- 
loon jumped,  and  the  heavy  stake,  swinging  inward, 
caught  in  the  netting ;  the  rope,  quickly  kinking, 
knotted  under  Ned's  shoulders  as  he  sprawled,  for  a 
moment,  on  the  ground ;  and  like  lightning  he  was 
jerked  into  space. 

The  accident  took  only  a  second.  Now  Ned  was 
valiantly  set,  prepared  to  hold  the  balloon  all  by  him- 
self, if  necessary ;  next,  he  was  lifted  irresistibly,  help- 
lessly, into  the  air,  and  out  of  a  great  uproar  of  voices 
he  was  conscious  only  of  Bob's  despairing,  high- 
pitched  yelps,  quickly  fading  away,  beneath;  and 
above,  the  aeronaut's  imperative,  tense  voice : 

"  Hang  tight !     Grab  the  rope  ! " 

With  both  hands  Ned  had  at  once  gripped  the 
rope  as  high  as  he  could  reach.  It  was  wound  about 
his  chest,  and  the  free  end  dangled  below.  He 
raised  his  eyes,  and  there,  over  head  on  the  trapeze, 
was  the  aeronaut. 

"  Get  that  end  between  your  legs — that's  right," 
bade  the  aeronaut.  "  Can  you  hold  on  ?  " 


HANG  TIGHT!     GRAB  THE  ROPE!" 


::  v 


«*.,  *  I  »r  }*2  **-"t  *     *   ,     ***« 


The  County  Fair  113 

"  Y-y-yes,"  quavered  Ned,  for  he  was  badly  fright- 
ened, and  between  the  queer  sensation  of  the  bottom 
dropping  out  of  everything,  and  the  pressure  of  the 
rope  about  him,  he  was  nearly  breathless. 

"  You're  all  hunky,  then,"  said  the  aeronaut, 
cheerily.  "  In  a  jiffy  we'll  be  back.  You  can't  fall ; 
just  hang  on  and  wait." 

"  Y-y-yes,"  quavered  Ned,  feeling  like  a  spider  on 
a  thread. 

It  was  very  still  where  they  were.  He  heard  a 
faint  hissing,  and  he  wondered  what  it  was.  The 
aeronaut  had  opened  the  escape  valve  in  the  balloon. 
Ned  did  not  know  it,  but  they  were  descending. 

"  How  do  you  like  your  free  ride  ?  "  queried  the 
aeronaut,  noting  Ned's  drawn  face,  and  trying  to 
divert  him  from  thinking  on  the  peril  of  the  situation. 

"  P-pretty  w-well,"  replied  Ned. 

"  Don't  look  down  !  Look  at  me  !  "  commanded 
the  aeronaut,  sternly.  "  Look  at  me  or  I'll  drop  on 
top  of  you,"  he  repeated. 

Ned,  alarmed,  kept  his  eyes  glued  on  those  pink- 
clad  legs  twenty  feet  above  him. 

Yet  he  could  no  more  help  glancing  hurriedly  be- 
neath him,  than  after  a  tooth  has  come  out  can  you 
help  putting  your  tongue  into  the  hole. 

He  looked  down  for  just  a  fraction  of  a  second — 
and  it  was  enough.  He  had  seen  the  world,  laid  flat ; 
a  patch  of  green,  and  a  patch  of  yellow,  and  a  thread- 
like streak  of  silver ;  and  the  gulf  that  yawned  under 
him  made  his  flesh  creep. 


114  Beaufort  Chums 

Supposing  the  aeronaut  should  drop  on  him ! 
Wouldn't  that  be  awful !  The  rope  might  break,  and 
together  they  would  whirl  like  stones  down  through 
space.  He  watched  the  aeronaut  anxiously. 

"  That's  right — watch  me,"  said  the  aeronaut.  "  If 
you  don't "  And  he  shook  his  head  mean- 
ingly. 

All  this  had  required  but  a  few  moments,  yet  to 
Ned  they  had  seemed  hours. 

"  Where  would  you  like  to  land  ?  "  asked  the  aero- 
naut, in  a  chatty  voice.  "  Back  at  the  fair  grounds, 
or  in  a  corn-field  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  faltered  Ned.  He  was  getting  tired 
of  his  strained  position. 

"  Well,  I  guess  we'll  choose  the  corn-field  this  trip," 
decided  the  aeronaut — speaking  as  if  they  were  used 
to  taking  such  hazardous  rides  together.  "  Now,  lis- 
ten here,"  he  continued,  sharply.  "  We're  getting 
close  to  the  ground.  Hear  the  leaves  rustling? 
Look  down  if  you  want  to,  and  see.  Didn't  I  tell 
you  ?  Pretty  soon  you'll  be  touching  the  top  of  the 
corn.  Then  I'm  going  to  cut  your  rope  with  my 
knife.  It  won't  hurt  you  to  drop — you've  often 
jumped  out  of  trees  and  things  higher  than  we'll  be — 
of  course  you  have." 

How  near  the  ground  was !  Ned  could  scarcely 
believe  his  eyes.  It  seemed  to  be  rushing  up  at 
them.  Below  was  a  large  corn-field,  the  stiff  stalks 
bending  in  the  breeze. 

"  When  I  say  '  three,'  I'll  cut,"  warned  the  aeronaut. 


The  County  Fair  115 

"  All  right,"  responded  Ned. 

The  corn  stalks  just  scraped  his  toes.     The  aero- 
naut put  his  knife  against  the  rope. 
«  One — two — three !  "  he  cried. 
Ned  dropped.    Crash,  crash,  thump  !    He  ploughed 
through  the  corn,  and  brought  up  with  his  hands 
buried  to  the  wrists   in  dirt.     But  he  was  safe  on 
earth  !     Rather,  he  was  safe  in  earth  !     It  didn't  mat- 
ter ;  he  was  thankful. 

Without  delaying  to  unwind  the  rope,  he  started 
to  stand  up  to  look  for  the  balloon  and  the  aeronaut. 
He  caught  just  a  glimpse  of  them,  already  careening 
onward,  far  adown  the  field,  where  they  had  darted 
when  relieved  of  his  weight — and  then  he  sank  back 
with  an  "  Ouch  !  " 

He  had  sprained  his  ankle. 

He  unwrapped  the  rope,  and  carrying  it  in  his 
hand  hobbled  toward  the  road.  The  aeronaut,  who 
had  made  a  better  landing  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
came  rattling  up,  balloon  and  all,  in  a  farmer's  wagon, 
to  meet  him. 

Then  they  made  triumphal  entry  into  town,  and 
Mrs.  Miller,  astonished  at  seeing  the  turn-out  stop 
before  her  door,  learned  what  a  thrilling  ride  aloft 
Ned  had  just  made. 

First  she  hugged  him,  and  then  she  bound  his 
ankle,  and  then  she  hugged  him  again,  and  then  she 
went  off  to  cry.  But  she  couldn't  stay,  and  came 
back  with  tears  still  in  her  eyes. 

Next  Mr.  Miller  arrived  in  haste,  and  after  patting 


1 1 6  Beaufort  Chums 

Ned  softly  on  the  head,  and  saying :  "  Why,  Ned- 
die ! "  coughed  violently,  and  had  to  turn  his  back 
and  blow  his  nose. 

Last  came  Bob,  trotting  home  in  great  chagrin 
over  having  lost  track  of  his  master.  He  stood  on 
his  hind  legs,  and  licked  Ned  all  over  the  face. 

Ned  was  considered  very  lucky — by  older  folks 
because  he  had  escaped  with  his  life ;  by  the  boys 
because  he  had  been  up  in  a  balloon ;  and  by  him- 
self because  the  sprain  had  come  at  the  end  of  vaca- 
tion, instead  of  at  the  beginning  or  middle. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
NED  THE  NIMROD 

NED'S  ankle  healed  all  too  rapidly,  for  him ; 
he  was  out  of  school  only  three  days.     How- 
ever, it  remained  weak  for  a  much  longer 
time,  affording  him  the  fun  of  limping  about  with  a 
cane.     The  boys  quite  envied  him,  and  the  girls  gazed 
on  him  with  mingled  symptoms  of  awe  and  pity. 

Little  Zu-zu  Pearce,  who,  since  his  rescue  of  Tom, 
had  adopted  him  as  her  own  especial  hero,  came  up 
to  him,  as  he  was  standing  by  the  schoolhouse  steps, 
and  looking  at  him  gravely,  said : 

"  Does  it  hurt  you  awful,  Ned  ?  " 

"  Naw,"  scoffed  Ned.  "  It's  nothing  but  just  a 
common  sprain,  and  it's  about  well,  now." 

"  I  don't  believe  you'd  say,  even  if  it  was  killing 
you,"  asserted  Zu-zu,  admiringly.  "  And  you  were 
awful  brave  not  to  let  go  of  that  rope  and  be 
killed ! " 

"  Aw,  I  couldn't  have  let  go  if  I'd  tried,"  asserted 
Ned,  wriggling  uneasily.  "  I  was  tied  on." 

"  Well,  I  don't  care — you  didn't  let  go,  anyway," 
returned  Zu-zu ;  and  she  skipped  back  to  the  other 
girls,  leaving  Ned  red  and  embarrassed,  but  neverthe- 
less gazing  after  her  with  a  pleased  expression  in  his 
eyes  and  a  kindly  warmth  in  his  heart. 

117 


Ii8  Beaufort  Chums 

But,  as  in  the  case  of  many  a  badge  of  honor,  the 
cane  presently  became  irksome.  Ned  wanted  a  gun, 
and  he  knew  that  it  was  no  use  to  aspire  to  be  a 
hunter  if  he  couldn't  walk  and  run.  So  he  dropped 
the  cane,  now  unnecessary,  and  fell  to  teasing  his 
father  for  a  shotgun. 

Living  as  they  did  beside  the  Mississippi,  which  is 
a  great  thoroughfare  for  wild  fowl  in  their  flights 
from  north  to  south,  and  from  south  to  north,  each 
fall  and  spring  the  Beauforters  were  given  splendid 
duck-shooting. 

All  the  men  who  liked  hunting,  and  nearly  all  the 
older  boys,  and  some  of  the  younger  whose  folks 
did  not  care,  had  guns.  Hunting  played  as  impor- 
tant a  part  in  a  Beaufort  boy's  program  as  did  swim- 
ming and  rowing. 

Although  Ned  had  mastered  the  two  sports  last 
mentioned,  it  did  not  seem  to  his  mother  that  she 
ever  could  consent  to  his  taking  up  the  first — hunting 
with  a  gun. 

Time  had  proved  to  her  that  there  were  plenty  of 
dangers  to  which  Ned  was  exposed,  without  adding  to 
the  list  powder  and  lead. 

Ned  argued  for;  his  mother  pleaded  against; 
Mr.  Miller  listened  and  smiled,  and  was  strictly  non- 
committal. Down  deep  in  his  mind  he  knew  that  in 
the  end  Ned  would  win  the  day. 

"  Well,  Helen,  I  don't  see  but  what  we'll  have  to 
give  the  boy  the  gun,"  he  remarked  to  his  wife,  when 
they  were  alone,  one  evening. 


Ned  the  Nimrod  119 

"  Oh,  Will !  "  groaned  Mrs.  Miller,  in  piteous 
tones. 

"  But  you  see,  my  dear,  it  will  be  very  hard  to 
keep  him  from  being  with  other  boys  who  have 
guns,"  explained  her  husband,  "  and  it  would  be 
better  to  let  him  have  a  gun  of  his  own,  and  under- 
stand how  to  use  it,  than  to  leave  him  to  pick,  up 
what  he  can,  and  maybe  get  injured  through  his 
ignorance." 

"Oh,  Will!"  again  appealed  Mrs.  Miller.  "It 
doesn't  seem  as  though  I  could  agree  to  it." 

Then  mother-like,  that  her  boy  might  live  his 
strong,  sturdy  life,  she  consented. 

"  Ned,"  spoke  Mr.  Miller,  the  next  noon,  "  sup- 
posing we  let  you  have  a  gun,  will  you  promise  to 
do  exactly  as  we  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  agreed  Ned,  promptly. 

"  And  you'll  be  careful  ?  "  implored  his  mother, 
anxiously  gazing  at  him. 

"  Of  course,"  assured  Ned. 

He  half-way  expected  that  his  father  would  take 
him  straight  down  town  and  buy  a  gun  ;  but  he  was 
disappointed.  There  were  farther  preliminaries. 

"  All  right,"  said  his  father.  "  But  before  you  get 
the  gun,  I  want  to  be  sure  that  you  know  how  to 
handle  it.  I  don't  want  you  shooting  yourself,  or 
shooting  anybody  else,  which  would  be  about  as  bad. 
So  I've  arranged  with  Mr.  Russell  to  take  you  out 
and  show  you  a  few  things." 

Mr.   Russell   lived  across  the  street.     He  was  a 


122  Beaufort  Chums 

Bob,  who,  at  the  stroke  of  the  bell  for  the  close 
of  school  always  hied  out  upon  the  front  walk  to 
wait  for  his  master,  and  thus,  this  afternoon,  had 
caught  him  ere  he  entered  the  Russell  gate,  had 
been  uneasily  sniffing  at  the  gun  case,  and  eye- 
ing Mr.  Russell's  preparations.  He  whined,  vaguely 
and  uncertainly.  There  was  something  that  he  didn't 
like. 

In  spite  of  Mr.  Russell's  ordinary  garb  Ned  was 
as  proud  as  a  peacock  when  they  started  up  the 
street  together,  while  Bob,  with  worried  air,  trotted 
behind. 

The  flats  for  which  they  were  bound  lay  just  west 
of  the  town ;  they  were  a  wide  stretch  of  low,  level 
land,  pasture  and  shallow  marsh,  given  over  to  cows 
and  frogs. 

Ned  and  Mr.  Russell  scrambled  over  a  fence,  and 
stopped  in  a  field  where  there  were  no  cattle  or  per- 
sons within  range. 

Mr.  Russell  took  the  gun  from  its  case,  and 
snapped  it  together. 

«  Say — is  that  your  gun  ?  "  demanded  Ned,  sur- 
prised. "  I  thought  you  had  a  double-barrel ! " 

"  This  is  a  new  one,"  replied  Mr.  Russell.  "  See, 
how  it  comes  apart?"  and  he  unsnapped  the  fore- 
end,  and  took  off  the  barrel.  "  Now  you  try,"  he 
bade,  passing  the  parts  to  Ned. 

Without  hesitation  Ned  fitted  them  together. 
Then  he  handled  the  piece  fondly. 

It  was  a  compact  little  single-barrel,  twelve-bore, 


Ned  the  Nimrod  123 

with  low,  rebounding  hammer,  pistol  grip,  barrel  of 
bronzed  twist,  stock  of  polished  walnut,  and  all  the 
metal  trimmings  blued,  to  prevent  rust,  and  avoid 
alarming  game  by  flashes  of  sun ;  in  fact,  from  the 
sight  bead  to  the  rubber  butt  plate  it  seemed  a  per- 
fect little  gun. 

"My!"  sighed  Ned,  boldly  putting  it  to  his 
shoulder,  and  aiming  into  space.  "  It  is  choke- 
bore,  Mr.  Russell  ?" 

"  Yes,  siree,"  assured  Mr.  Russell,  who  had  been 
watching  him  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  "  Shall  I 
show  you  ?  "  and  he  extended  his  hand. 

With  a  final  loving  pat  of  the  breech  Ned  regret- 
fully turned  the  gun  over  to  him,  and  awaited  the 
next  number  on  the  program. 

Mr.  Russell  inserted  a  shell,  and  said : 

"  Now  go  off  from  me  about  thirty  yards,  and 
throw  up  this  tin  can,  and  let's  see  what  I  can  do  to  it." 

Ned  obeyed.  He  ran  out,  close  followed  by  Bob, 
until  Mr.  Russell  told  him  to  stop. 

"  Throw  it  high,  and  away  from  you,"  called  Mr. 
Russell. 

Up  sailed  the  can.  "  Bang ! "  went  the  gun. 
"  Clink ! "  sounded  the  shot  cutting  the  tin.  The 
can  jumped  in  its  arc,  and  striking  the  ground 
rolled  over  and  over  as  though  it  had  been  mor- 
tally wounded. 

Ned  raced  to  pick  it  up.  It  was  now  a  sorry  look- 
ing can ;  and  he  brought  it  to  Mr.  Russell,  counting 
the  shot  holes  as  he  did  so. 


126  Beaufort  Chums 

«N-n-no,"  admitted  Ned.  "At  least,  there  was 
only  one  shot-hole,  and  Chuck  said  he  made  it.  But 
I've  aimed  lots  of  times,"  he  added,  to  prove  that  he 
was  not  lacking  in  experience. 

"  Here !  "  called  Mr.  Russell,  looking  back.  "  Keep 
that  gun  pointed  toward  the  ground  until  you're  tak- 
ing aim !  I  don't  want  to  be  speckled  all  over  with 
lead." 

"  It  isn't  cocked,"  explained  Ned. 

"  That  makes  no  difference,"  retorted  Mr.  Russell. 
"  Always  handle  a  gun,  empty  or  loaded,  cocked  or 
not,  as  though  you  expected  that  it  would  go  off  at 
any  moment.  That  should  become  a  fixed  habit. 
Will  you  remember — or  shall  we  stop  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  remember,"  pledged  Ned. 

And,  barring  a  few  slight  lapses,  he  did. 

Mr.  Russell  balanced  the  smooth  round  can  on  the 
fence  post,  and  walked  to  one  side. 

"  All  ready,"  he  announced. 

Ned  leveled  the  piece,  and  pulled  on  the  trigger. 
He  couldn't  budge  it. 

"  Why  not  cock  your  gun  ?  "  inquired  Mr.  Russell, 
quizzically. 

Ned  blushed.  What  a  number  of  blunders  he  had 
made !  Mr.  Russell  would  think  him  very  stupid. 

He  aimed  again. 

"  Bang ! " 

The  stock  of  the  gun  flew  up  and  jarred  his  head, 
but  he  didn't  mind.  He  peered  through  the  thin 
smoke.  The  can  had  disappeared. 


Ned  the  Nimrod  127 

"  I  hit  it !  I  hit  it !  I  know  I  hit  it !  "  he  cried, 
setting  out  on  the  dead  run. 

"  I  should  say  you  did !  "  assured  Mr.  Russell,  de- 
lighted, picking  up  the  can  and  examining  it. 
"  Bravo  !  Fifteen — sixteen,  seventeen  !  You  beat 
me  by  one  !  " 

Ned  clutched  the  can,  and  delivered  the  gun  into 
cooler  keeping.  He  scanned  his  trophy  inch  by 
inch,  and  gloated  over  the  many  holes.  Mr.  Russell 
noted  his  puffed  lip,  and  smiled. 

"  If  you  hadn't  taken  in  me,  too,  when  you  swung 
your  gun,  to  aim,"  he  commented,  "  you  might  not 
have  been  punished  by  that  lip." 

"  Oh  !  "  uttered  Ned,  a  little  taken  aback,  and  be- 
coming conscious  of  his  bump. 

"  Next  time  you'll  hold  the  gun  tighter  against 
your  shoulder — and  be  more  careful  in  that  other  re- 
spect, too,"  said  Mr.  Russell,  simply. 

They  stayed  on  the  flats  for  an  hour  and  a  half, 
and  used  up  all  of  Mr.  Russell's  cartridges ;  and  when 
Ned  went  home  he  fairly  was  bursting  with  informa- 
tion. He  carried  with  him  that  riddled  tin  can,  and 
with  no  small  degree  of  pride  showed  it  to  the  family 
and  to  the  boys  of  the  neighborhood.  He  had  hit 
other  cans,  during  the  lesson,  but  this  was  the  result 
of  his  first  shot ! 

Bob  was  waiting  for  him,  at  the  front  gate.  He 
greeted  his  master  with  a  sheepish,  apologetic  man- 
ner, as  though  to  say  : 


128  Beaufort  Chums 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  act  so  silly ;  but  you  know,  I 
can't  help  it." 

"  That's  all  right,  Bob,"  comforted  Ned.  "  I  un- 
derstand. You  shan't  go  again." 

Whereupon  Bob  whined  wistfully,  as  much  as  to  say: 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  go,  then,  either." 

Bob,  you  see,  was  just  a  mite  selfish  in  regard  to 
Ned. 

During  the  next  week  Ned  went  out  several  times 
with  Mr.  Russell,  and  began  to  feel  like  quite  a  vet- 
eran. He  not  only  could  hit  stationary  cans,  but  he 
learned  to  hit  things  tossed  into  the  air.  To  tell  the 
truth,  he  was  a  fine  pupil. 

"  Ned,  Mr.  Russell  thinks  that  the  public  won't 
suffer  if  we  go  ahead  now  and  trust  you  alone  with  a 
gun,"  observed  Mr.  Miller,  one  evening,  at  the  supper 
table.  "  He  says  you're  learning  well,  and  that  all 
you  need  do  is  remember." 

"  I  can  hit  a  little  piece  of  bark  thrown  up  forty 
yards  away,"  asserted  Ned,  confidently. 

"  Very  good,"  responded  his  father,  pushing  back 
from  the  table.  "  But  I  didn't  get  Mr.  Russell  to 
teach  you  that,  so  much  as  to  teach  you  not  to  hit 
some  objects  more  important !  " 

He  went  into  the  bedroom,  and  came  back,  bear- 
ing a  gun  case. 

"  How  do  you  like  it  ?  "  he  said,  giving  it  to  Ned. 

With  feverish  fingers  Ned  unbuckled  the  straps. 
The  case  had  looked  familiar;  the  gun  was  still 
more  familiar. 


Ned  the  Nimrod  129 

«  Say "  he  burst  out.  "  Is  it  mine?  Did  Mr. 

Russell  give  it  to  me  ?  Did  you  buy  it  of  him  ? 
It's  the  very  same  gun  !  " 

"  So  it  is,"  replied  his  father,  pleased  to  see  him  so 
pleased.  "  I  had  Mr.  Russell  pick  it  out  for  me  the 
day  after  you  and  your  mother  and  I  talked  to- 
gether; so  you've  been  using  it  all  this  time,  and 
now  you're  acquainted  with  it.  It's  yours." 

"  Not  yet,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Miller.  "  Wait  a  mo- 
ment. Give  the  gun  to  me,  Ned." 

Ned  wonderingly  surrendered  the  treasure. 

"  Neddie,"  she  declared,  holding  it  behind  her 
back,  and  trying  not  to  laugh,  "  you  can't  have  it 
unless  you  promise  not  to  use  that  dreadful '  say  '  any 
more ! " 

"  I  won't,  I  won't ! "  vowed  Ned,  in  alarm. 

"  Won't  what  ?  "  insisted  his  mother. 

"  Won't  say  '  say  '  any  more,"  cried  Ned.     • 

"  Or  as  much,"  restricted  his  mother,  firmly. 

"  I  won't  say  it  at  all,"  promised  Ned. 

With  a  kiss  his  mother  restored  the  gun  to  his 
eager  grasp. 

The  only  personage  within  Ned's  circle  of  relatives 
and  friends  who  did  not  rejoice  with  him  in  his  new 
gun  was  Bob.  Poor  Bob!  The  weapon  was  an 
eye-sore  to  him.  When  his  master  brought  it  out 
Bob  gazed  at  him  reproachfully,  and  slunk  off,  de- 
jected, woebegone.  No  coaxing  could  lift  his 
spirits,  or  induce  him  to  come  outside  the  yard, 
when  the  gun  was  in  sight. 


130  Beaufort  Chums 

The  gun  was  the  only  break  that  ever  occurred  in 
the  relationship  between  Ned  and  his  dog. 

Ned  speedily  waxed  to  be  a  crack  shot  among  his  fel- 
lows. He  practiced  incessantly,  to  the  death  of  count- 
less tin  cans,  and  the  disappearance  of  his  savings. 

Mr.  Miller  did  not  object,  but  he  outlined  his 
views  in  a  little  lecture  on  shooting  in  general. 

"  Destroy  all  the  cans  you  want  to,  Ned,"  he 
laughed.  "  They're  fair  game."  Then  he  grew 
graver :  "  That's  right.  I  want  you  to  learn  to 
shoot  straight,  so  as  to  kill  when  you  intend  to. 
But  don't  shoot  for  practice  at  innocent  birds.  They 
love  to  live,  as  well  as  you.  Don't  risk  shots  at 
game  when  the  chances  are  that  you  can  merely 
wound.  Shoot  straight,  and  kill  outright.  Better 
let  a  duck  go,  than  maim  it,  so  that  it  is  liable  to 
linger  and  suffer  for  hours  or  days.  That  is  why  I 
gave  you  a  single-barrel,  and  had  it  heavily  choked. 
You  will  be  more  careful  than  if  you  had  a  second 
barrel  to  fall  back  upon,  and  when  the  load  hits  a 
bird,  it  will  hit  to  kill." 

"  Oh,  Neddie  !  I  do  wish  that  you  would  be  con- 
tent to  shoot  at  cans  and  such  things,  like  you  are 
doing  now,"  pleaded  his  mother. 

"  Why,  mother! "  exclaimed  Ned,  horrified.  "  We 
can't  eat  cans  /  " 

"  So  far  as  eating  is  concerned,  Ned,"  spoke  his 
father,  drily,  "  we  shan't  go  back  on  our  butcher 
just  yet,  even  though  you  have  got  a  gun  !  We 
might  need  him." 


Ned  the  Nimrod  131 

Of  all  the  boys  who  accompanied  Ned,  to  throw 
cans  and  blocks  about  at  his  bidding,  Tom  Pearce 
was  the  most  faithful,  although  Hal  likewise  went 
quite  often,  and  was  trying  to  have  his  father  get 
him  a  gun,  also. 

The  frosty  nights  and  the  soft,  delicious  days  of 
Indian  summer  arrived ;  with  them  arrived  the  ducks, 
who  well  knew  that  winter  was  near  at  hand,  in  am- 
bush on  the  borders  of  autumn. 

Ned's  neck  was  stiff  from  perpetually  searching 
the  heavens  to  discover  scurrying  flocks.  He  talked 
ducks  from  morn  to  eve,  and  dreamed  ducks  from 
eve  to  morn,  and  the  family  assured  him  that  he 
certainly  would  turn  into  one,  if  he  didn't  let  up. 

And  so  far,  despite  his  hunting  excursions,  and 
his  tales  of  "big  mallards"  that  he  "almost"  got, 
the  family  table  was  still  innocent  of  game. 

The  tenth  of  November,  and  behold  Ned,  and 
Tom,  his  squire,  across  the  river,  trudging  among 
the  winding  sloughs  that  formed  a  popular  Beaufort 
hunting-ground.  They  had  started  from  home  at 
four  in  the  morning — as  was  their  custom ;  and  had 
been  tramping  ever  since — as,  again,  was  their 
custom ;  and  had  not  shot  a  single  duck — which, 
alas,  also  was  their  custom.  Ducks  were  much  more 
crafty  than  tin  cans. 

Yet  the  boys  thought  that  tramping  all  a  long  day, 
laden  with  gun  and  shells  and  boots,  through  swamp 
and  over  fields ;  with  a  few  mouthfuls  of  cold  break- 
fast, and  a  cold  lunch  hastily  gobbled;  and  at  the 


132  Beaufort  Chums 

last  not  a  feather  to  reward  them,  was  much  less 
work  than  piling  wood,  for  instance,  or  going  down 
town  for  a  yeast-cake  ! 

Perseverance  has  its  reward.  On  this  tenth  of 
November  Ned  and  Tom  had  stopped  in  a  fence 
corner  to  eat  their  lunch,  which  consisted  mainly 
of  bread  and  butter  and  sugar,  hard  boiled  eggs,  and 
cookies.  They  had  stiffly  arisen,  and  had  walked 
forward  not  twenty  paces,  when  up  from  under  the 
high  bank  of  a  narrow  inlet  just  in  front  of  them, 
jumped  straight  into  the  air,  with  a  quack  and  a 
sputter,  a  panic-stricken  something,  and  was  off  like 
a  bullet. 

"Ned!"  blurted  Tom. 

"  Bang  !  "  spoke  the  gun. 

Down  to  turf  upon  the  other  side  of  the  inlet 
plumped  the  something,  magically  stopped  in  mid- 
flight. 

"  You  got  him  !  You  got  him !  Hurrah  !  " 
howled  Tom,  dashing  through  the  water,  up  over 
his  knees — and  boots. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cheered  Ned,  in  his  wake. 

It  had  happened  so  quickly  that  he  was  quite  be- 
side himself.  He  had  no  recollection  of  taking  aim. 
He  had  no  recollection  of  anything  save  a  feathered 
blurr  in  the  air,  his  gun  banging — and  the  feathered 
blurr  had  disappeared. 

Through  the  shallow  inlet  they  plashed,  reckless 
of  consequences.  On  the  way  Ned  ejected  the 
empty  shell  and  inserted,  with  trembling  ringers,  a 


Ned  the  Nimrod  133 

new  one,  to  be  ready  in  case  the  victim  should  sud- 
denly make  off! 

The  precaution  was  unnecessary.  The  victim  was 
past  all  "  making  off."  Tom  reached  it  first,  where 
it  lay,  a  shapeless,  pathetic  little  lump  of  down  and 
quill,  twenty  yards  from  the  water's  edge,  and  grabbed 
it  with  the  zeal  of  a  retriever. 

"  It's  a  wood-duck  !  "  he  cried,  joyfully. 

Ned  panted  up,  and  with  scant  courtesy  snatched 
it  from  him. 

"  'Tain't,  either,"  he  said,  scornfully.  "  It's  a  green- 
wing  teal.  See  there." 

Tom  meekly  granted  the  correction  as  coming 
from  one  who  owned  a  new  gun  and  must  know. 

The  boys  turned  the  limp  bunch — no  larger  than 
a  pigeon,  but,  nevertheless,  their  first  prize — over  and 
over  in  their  hands,  marking  its  every  feature. 

Unlucky  duckling  ;  its  life,  begun  only  that  sum- 
mer, had  quickly  ended. 

At  last  Ned  tucked  it  in  the  pocket  of  his  hunt- 
ing-coat, and  on  they  strode,  feeling  now  on  the 
highway  to  slaughter. 

Every  few  minutes  Ned  caressingly  fingered  the 
warm,  soft  ball  hanging  against  his  left  hip.  He 
hoped  that  it  would  make  a  bloody  spot  on  the 
canvas  of  the  pocket.  Although  he  had  done  his 
best,  the  coat  was  still  altogether  too  fresh. 

No  more  game  fell  to  his  gun  that  day;  but 
neither  he  nor  Tom  cared.  They  were  not  to  go 
home  empty-handed. 


134  Beaufort  Chums 

All  the  way  through  the  streets  Ned  wondered  if 
people  suspected  what  he  was  carrying  concealed  in 
that  pocket ;  and  he  bore,  without  caring,  the  gibes  of 
sundry  hateful  urchins : 

"  Aw,  didn't  get  nothin'  !  Didn't  get  nothin' ! 
Ain't  he  a  big  hunter,  though  !  " 

Tom  stayed  and  helped  him  clean  the  teal.  They 
sat  in  the  barn  door,  and  scattered  the  feathers  into 
the  alley,  while  Bob  sniffed  and  sniffed  at  their  opera- 
tions. The  smell  of  the  duck  seemed  to  revive  in  his 
blood  old  instincts,  inherited  from  his  parents,  and  he 
was  unhappy  and  puzzled. 

"  You  didn't  kill  that  all  at  once,  did  you  ? " 
laughed  a  man,  driving  past. 

Well,  it  had  not  been  very  big,  with  the  feathers 
on,  and  it  was  very  much  smaller,  with  the  feathers 
off.  But  it  was  a  duck  ! 

The  boys  counted  the  shot-holes,  and  traced  where 
each  pellet  had  gone  in  and  come  out.  They  agreed 
that  Ned's  aim  had  been  exactly  right  and  that  the 
gun  was  a  wonder. 

Into  the  midst  of  their  pleasure  crept  an  under- 
current of  pity  which  stopped  just  short  of  regret. 

"  Seems  kind  of  too  bad,  to  kill  it,  doesn't  it," 
commented  Tom,  weighing  the  wee,  cold,  bare 
morsel  in  his  palm. 

"  Y-y-yes,"  admitted  Ned.  "  But  I  guess  he  never 
knew  what  struck  him." 

The  wings,  with  their  band  of  shiny  emerald,  had 
been  put  aside,  to  keep. 


Ned  the  Nimrod  135 

"  Here,"  said  Ned,  holding  them  out  to  Tom,  as 
that  stanch  follower  was  on  the  point  of  going  home. 
«  Take  'em." 

"  No,  you  keep  'em,"  insisted  Tom. 

"  Give  'em  to  Zu-zu,  then,"  blushed  Ned,  as  if  that 
was  a  second  thought.  "  She  can  wear  'em  in  a 
hat." 

Ned  was  duly  congratulated  on  his  success  by  the 
family.  The  duck  went  to  the  ice-box,  and  was 
roasted  and  served  to  him  for  dinner  the  next  day. 

"  Oh,  Neddie !  "  exclaimed  his  mother,  as  the  teal, 
now,  after  cooking,  was  smaller  than  ever.  "  Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  it  took  two  boys  and  a  gun  and 
nearly  a  whole  day  to  kill  a  poor  little  bird  like 
that?" 

"  It's  good,  anyway,"  excused  Ned,  his  mouth 
full. 


CHAPTER  IX 
THE  CAMPAIGN  PARADE 

BUT  this  fall,  gun  and  duck  did  not  stand  as  the 
only  excitement  for  Ned  and  the  other  Beau- 
fort youth.  Politics  were  red  hot.  A  presi- 
dent and  vice-president  of  the  United  States  were  to 
be  elected,  and  the  town  was  in  a  perfect  ferment  day 
and  night. 

There  were  caucuses  and  parades  and  "  rallies  " 
and  sidewalk  discussions  and  even  fights,  in  all 
of  which  the  boys,  and  the  girls,  too,  took  lively 
interest. 

At  school  the  recesses  were  given  over,  for  the 
most  part,  to  debate.  Ned's  father  was  a  Republican, 
Ned  was  what  his  father  was,  and  Bob  was  what  Ned 
was ;  Mr.  Lucas  was  a  Democrat,  therefore  Hal  was 
a  Democrat;  Tom  had  no  father  living,  and  so  he 
sided  with  neither  cause,  but  said  that  he  "  didn't 
care." 

j  "  Democrats 

1     Eat  old  dead  rats  !  " 

sang  Ned  and  his  crowd. 

j  "  Republicans 
1     Lick  old  tin  pans  !  " 
retorted  Hal  and  his  fellow  partisans. 

136 


The  Campaign  Parade  137 

Whereupon  the  Republicans  claimed  the  best  of 
the  argument. 

Nobody  in  Beaufort  was  more  faithful  in  attend- 
ing the  various  political  meetings  than  was  Ned. 
With  eyes  and  ears  alert  he  sedately  accompanied 
his  father ;  or  else,  doing  as  he  pleased,  tagged  the 
band  about  through  the  streets  until  it  brought  up 
at  hall  or  opera  house.  He  sat  or  stood,  squeezed 
in,  the  whole  evening  through,  listening  to  orators 
declare  what  great  and  wise  things  their  party  had 
done,  and  what  mean  and  foolish  things  the  other 
parties  had  done.  In  case  it  was  a  Republican  meet- 
ing he  cheered  in  triumph  ;  in  case  it  was  the  opposi- 
tion (for  he  did  not  limit  himself  to  the  one)  he 
cheered  "  just  for  fun."  Thus  he  was  able  to  do  lots 
of  shouting,  and  went  home  hot,  hoarse,  and  full  of 
enthusiasm. 

Of  all  the  meetings  in  the  town  during  the  cam- 
paign, the  crowning  one  occurred  as  follows : 

"  Hello ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Miller,  glancing  over 
The  Evening  Clarion. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  inquired  his  wife,  while  Ned,  hov- 
ering near,  was  at  once  all  ears. 

"  Why,  I  see  by  The  Clarion  that  Senator  Lipp  is 
to  be  here  on  the  twenty-ninth,  and  we're  going  to 
have  the  biggest  Republican  rally  ever  held  in  the 
county,"  explained  her  husband. 

«  Say "  cried  Ned,  agog,  and  forgetful  of  his 

recent  promise. 

"  Gun  !  "  said  his  mother. 


138  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  mean  to.  It  slipped  out  before  I 
thought,"  excused  Ned. 

"  Well,  don't  let  it  slip  in  again,"  laughed  his 
mother. 

"  There'll  be  a  big  parade  around  the  town,  wind- 
ing up  at  the  opera  house,"  continued  Mr.  Miller, 
skimming  through  the  article.  "All  the  outside 
places  are  to  be  invited  to  send  marching  clubs.  It's 
the  last  rally  before  election,  and  it  will  be  a 
whooper." 

"  Oh,  father !  I  want  to  march !  Can  I  ?  "  begged 
Ned. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  his  father,  unexpectedly. 
"  Go  ahead." 

"  But  I  mean  march  in  the  parade,"  persisted  Ned. 

"  We'll  see,"  responded  his  father. 

"  But  I'm  sure  they  don't  want  boys  fussing  round 
them,"  objected  Mrs.  Miller. 

"  Yes,  they  do,  mother,"  quickly  corrected  Ned. 
"  Lots  of  boys  march." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  they'll  gladly  take  anybody  large 
enough  to  carry  a  torch,"  confessed  Mr.  Miller. 

"  The  idea  !  "  exclaimed  his  wife,  shocked  by  this 
give-away  of  political  methods. 

As  time  wore  on,  the  approaching  rally  grew  to 
mammoth  proportions,  and  kept  Ned  busy  talking 
about  its  numerous  phases. 

The  Clarion  devoted  columns  of  space  to  it,  and 
the  town  was  well  plastered  with  posters  bristling 
with  exclamation  points  and  heavy  type. 


The  Campaign  Parade  139 

As  to  his  marching,  Ned  now  had  not  the  slightest 
doubt.  His  father  said  nothing  more  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  silence  gave  consent. 

"  My  father  says  we're  going  to  have  a  monster 
rally,  too;  the  night  before  election,"  at  last  Hal  de- 
clared, in  retort  to  Ned's  vauntings. 

"  'Twon't  be  as  big  as  ours,"  asserted  Ned. 

"  'Twill,  I  bet,"  stoutly  returned  Hal,  sticking  up 
for  the  honor  of  the  Democratic  party.  "  And  I'm 
going  to  march  !  " 

"  Are  you  ?  "  queried  Ned,  feeling  as  though  some 
of  the  polish  had  been  taken  off  his  own  future. 

Of  course,  there  was  the  remote  chance  that  rain 
would  interfere  with  the  Republicans,  or  that  in  some 
other  way  the  Democrats  would  be  led  to  outdo 
them. 

«  Say — no,  I  didn't  mean  that ;  but  I  tell  you 
what,"  he  proposed,  suddenly :  "  you  march  with 
me  in  our  parade,  and  I'll  march  with  you  in  yours  !  " 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Hal.  "  You  don't  suppose 
they'll  care,  do  you  ?  " 

By  "  they  "  he  referred  to  Republicans  and  Demo- 
crats in  general,  who  might  be  disposed  to  resent 
such  an  exchange. 

"  I  guess  not,"  hazarded  Ned.  "  It  evens  up,  you 
know.  And  then,  we're  only  kids." 

The  day  of  the  parade  came,  and  dawned  upon  a 
town  already  gay  with  bunting  and  banners.  As 
the  sun  rose  higher,  and  peeped  into  the  streets, 
seemingly  at  the  touch  of  his  rays  other  bunting  and 


140  Beaufort  Chums 

banners  unfolded.  By  noon  Republican  Beaufort  was 
in  gala  attire.  Democratic  Beaufort  stolidly  gazed, 
and  resolved : 

"  Just  wait  until  our  turn,  next  week." 

Lithographs  of  the  Republican  candidates  were 
displayed  on  all  sides,  in  windows  and  attached  to 
flags  drooping  from  upper  stories ;  cheese-cloth, 
bearing  mottoes  and  portraits,  spanned  the  down- 
town streets  and  stretched  across  corners ;  through 
the  ordinary  channels  of  business  and  private 
affairs  ran  a  current  of  excitement. 

"  So  you're  going  to  march,  are  you,  Ned  ?  "  re- 
marked his  father,  that  noon,  at  dinner. 

"  Don't,  Neddie,"  begged  his  mother.  "  You'll 
get  all  covered  with  dirt  and  grease ;  and  I'm  sure 
the  sight  of  you  in  the  ranks  won't  influence  many 
voters." 

"  But  I've  promised  Hal  to  march  in  his  parade 
if  he'll  march  in  mine,"  explained  Ned.  "  And 
he'll  be  mad  if  I  back  out.  I'll  wear  my  old 
clothes." 

Mrs.  Miller  sighed  and  looked,  for  support,  at  her 
husband.  However,  not  having  Ned's  garments  to 
clean,  he  was  filled  only  with  amusement. 

As  the  afternoon  wore  on,  the  delegations  from 
outside  points  began  to  arrive.  In  the  shape  of 
marching  clubs,  with  wild  cheers  they  tumbled  off 
from  incoming  trains,  and  forming  at  the  depot 
paraded  up  town,  bands  playing  and  people  shout- 
ing. Or  as  farmers'  families  they  rattled  in  by  wagon- 


The  Campaign  Parade  141 

loads,  and  tying  the  horses  around  the  court-house 
square  wandered  through  the  streets. 

In  the  schoolroom  Ned  and  his  fellow  prisoners 
could  hear  the  cries  and  music  and  sound  of  heavy 
wheels,  and  chafed  to  be  free.  With  the  welcome 
four  o'clock  bell  they  poured  abroad,  quite  certain 
that  there  were  a  thousand  new  things  to  see. 

This  afternoon  Bob  sat  at  the  front  gate  and  waited 
in  vain.  He  was  cut  out  by  politics. 

His  master,  who  had  found  much  to  do  in  watch- 
ing the  depots,  and  not  missing  what  the  streets  also 
had  to  offer,  did  not  appear  until  nearly  supper  time. 

"  Here  you  are,  Ned,"  called  Mr.  Miller,  Clarion  in 
hand.  "  This  means  you  :  '  Marchers  not  attached  to 
any  organization  may  obtain  their  uniforms  at  Room 
6,  Shinn  Block.  It  is  requested  that  the  uniforms  be 
returned  here,  either  immediately  after  the  meeting, 
or  to-morrow/  " 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Ned.     "  What  kind  of  uniform  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  extra,  you'll  find,"  replied  his 
father,  destroying  Ned's  visions  of  epaulets  and  a 
cocked  hat. 

"  But  it  will  serve  to  keep  your  clothes  from  the 
oil  and  soot,  I  hope,"  voiced  the  thrifty  mother. 

Ned  galloped  through  his  chores,  and  bolted  a 
hasty  supper.  Hal  whistled  for  him,  and  ruthlessly 
shutting  in  the  barn  the  luckless  Bob — who  would 
have  been  unhappy,  anyway,  with  so  many  bands 
playing  in  his  ears,  and  so  many  feet  to  dodge — he 
scooted  off. 


142  Beaufort  Chums 

"  We'll  watch  for  you,  when  the  parade  comes  past 
the  corner,"  cried  his  mother,  after  him ;  for  the  line 
of  march  led  within  a  block  of  the  house. 

Already  streams  of  people,  mostly  men  and  boys, 
some  even  now  in  uniform,  were  flowing  toward  the 
business  centre  of  town;  and  that  business  centre 
itself  was  a  fascinating  scene  of  bustle,  as  the  march- 
ers, in  a  variety  of  costumes,  strode  the  walks,  or 
loitered  at  their  points  of  assembly. 

For  Ned  and  Hal,  the  first  thing  to  do  was  to  get 
uniforms.  Until  they  had  some  trappings  they  could 
not  feel  as  though  they  amounted  to  much. 

Room  6,  Shinn  Block,  fairly  was  swarming  with 
persons  after  uniforms.  In  one  corner  was  a  pile  of 
capes,  near  by  was  a  stack  of  caps,  and  in  another 
corner  were  sheaves  of  torches.  Evidently  all  that 
was  necessary  to  do  was  to  walk  up,  pick  out  an  out- 
fit, and  leave. 

The  two  boys  sidled  in,  and  had  just  seized  upon  a 
cape  apiece  when  they  were  interrupted  by  a  man 
who  from  beside  the  door  was  overseeing  things. 

"  Hey,  you  kids  !  What  are  you  doing  with  those 
capes  ?  "  he  demanded,  gruffly. 

Ned  and  Hal,  startled  and  abashed,  dropped  their 
spoils. 

"  We're  going  to  march,"  stammered  Ned. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  It's  Will  Miller's  boy,"  ex- 
plained somebody  in  the  room,  coming  to  the  rescue. 
"  Let  him  march." 

"And  isn't  that  young  Lucas?"  queried  some- 


The  Campaign  Parade  143 

body  else.  "  Is  your  father  going  to  march  with  us 
to-night,  too,  sonny  ?  " 

"  No,  he  isn't !  "  retorted  Hal,  hotly.  "  He's  going 
to  be  in  a  lots  bigger  parade  than  this,  next  week  !  " 

Amid  the  teasing  laughter  which  greeted  this  sally 
the  boys  snatched  cape  and  cap  and  torch,  and  fled 
lest  yet  they  might  be  stopped. 

The  capes  were  of  blue  oilcloth,  and  buckled  at  the 
throat.  The  caps  also  were  of  oilcloth,  but  red,  and 
were  round,  with  a  flat  top  and  heavy  visor.  The 
torches  consisted  of  a  long  staff,  at  the  end  of  which 
swung  a  can  containing  kerosene  and  a  wick. 

As  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the  room  the  boys 
donned  their  rigs.  The  capes  came  down  to  their 
knees ;  and  since  in  their  haste  they  had  not  taken 
account  of  size,  their  caps  were  far  too  large,  and 
spun  about  on  their  crowns.  Paper,  a  tremendous 
quantity,  having  been  stuffed  under  the  bands  inside, 
then,  with  their  caps  still  wobbly,  but  with  their 
capes  rustling  and  their  torches  proudly  held  aloft, 
the  two  brave  marchers  descended  to  the  street. 

Even  during  their  brief  stay  while  getting  their 
outfit,  a  change  had  taken  place  in  the  aspect  of  the 
world  without.  Darkness  had  fallen,  and  torches 
were  being  called  into  life,  right  and  left. 

"  Let's  light  up  ! "  proposed  Hal. 

"  Let's,"  seconded  Ned. 

This  was  as  easily  done  as  said ;  they  simply  ap- 
plied their  wicks  to  the  lighted  wick  of  the  next  good- 
natured  man  whom  they  met — and  good  nature  was 


144  Beaufort  Chums 

everywhere  to-night — and  now,  with  torches  blazing, 
they  were  fully  in  trim  for  the  parade. 

The  procession  was  forming.  On  horseback  mar- 
shals, distinguished  by  a  sash  passing  from  one 
shoulder  diagonally  across  the  chest  and  under  the 
opposite  arm,  dashed  up,  and  wheeled  and  dashed 
down  again.  Horns  gave  preliminary,  erratic  toots, 
and  drums  broke  in  with  sudden  rolls.  Flambeaux 
flamed  forth,  and  died  out.  Transparencies  bobbed 
hither  and  thither,  upon  invisible  legs.  Marching 
clubs  stood  at  ease,  while  their  members  jested  and 
waited.  The  air  was  filled  with  kerosene  smoke  and 
echoing  voices. 

Ned  and  Hal,  holding  their  heads  stiffly  lest  their 
caps  should  tumble  off,  and  wrapped  in  their  blue 
capes  like  a  cattle-man  in  his  poncho,  sped  to  the 
corner  mentioned  by  The  Clarion  as  the  meeting 
place  of  the  "  unattached."  Here  had  gathered 
about  fifty  other  blue  capes  and  red  caps,  and  the 
number  was  slowly  being  swelled. 

"  Hi  there ! "  hailed  a  marshal,  spurring  to  them. 
"  You  men  close  in,  in  column  of  fours,  on  the  rear 
of  the  procession,  as  it  passes  by." 

Off  he  tore  again,  while  Ned  and  Hal  felt  not  a 
little  elated  at  having  been  classed  among  the  "  men." 

The  parade  started.  Drums  commenced  to  beat 
time,  bands  commenced  to  play,  and  forth  into  the 
surrounding  darkness  flowed  a  little  stream  of  lights 
as  if  the  sea  of  torches  had  sprung  a-leak,  and  was 
trickling  down  the  street. 


The  Campaign  Parade  145 

Hal  and  Ned  had  a  good  view  of  the  make-up  of 
the  procession ;  but  they  were  impatient  to  become, 
themselves,  a  part  of  it,  and  fretted  at  the  delay. 

"  There  comes  the  last ! "  exclaimed  a  self-ap- 
pointed leader.  "  Get  ready,  four  abreast !  " 

In  the  confusion  caused  by  forming  some  sem- 
blance of  ranks,  the  two  boys  found  themselves 
elbowed  aside  by  tall  men  who  didn't  want  to  be 
made  to  look  ridiculous,  and  by  short  men  who 
didn't  wish  to  be  classed  with  "  kids,"  and  by  medium 
sized  men  who  evidently  never  had  been  boys — and 
finally,  when  the  whole  had  been  divided  by  four, 
Ned  and  Hal  found  themselves  sifted  back  to  the 
rear,  as  remainders  ! 

Nobody  seemed  to  notice  them  or  their  plight. 
For  a  moment  they  were  dismayed. 

"  Aw,  don't  let's  care,"  said  Ned,  bluffly.  «  We 
can  march,  just  the  same." 

"  Of  course,"  responded  Hal.  "  And  it's  more  fun 
to  be  two,"  he  added,  defiantly. 

The  column  moved  jerkily  past,  "  hitching  "  along, 
after  the  manner  of  all  processions  in  starting,  as 
though  it  was  learning  to  walk.  When  the  tail  came 
opposite,  the  blue  capes  joined  themselves  to  it,  and 
now  the  parade  moved  off,  complete — a  whip  lash 
of  bobbing  lights,  with  the  blue  capes  forming  the 
snapper,  and  Ned  and  Hal  being  the  frayed  tip. 

Bands  played  conflicting  tunes ;  flambeaux  flared 
and  red  fire  glared ;  transparencies  curtsied  and 
turned  themselves  about  for  approval ;  the  people 


146  Beaufort  Chums 

lined  up  along  the  curb  upon  either  side  of  the  route 
hooted  and  cheered. 

Away  at  the  end  Ned  and  Hal  proudly  held  their 
torches  as  high  as  they  could,  and  tried  to  keep  step 
with  the  men  in  front  of  them.  Theirs  was  the  most 
uncomfortable  station  in  the  line.  All  the  dust,  and 
the  soot  and  reek  from  the  kerosene  drifted  back  to 
enfold  them ;  the  red  fire  was  burned  out  before  they 
arrived,  and  likewise  the  spectators  had  done  their 
cheering  and  were  taking  short  cuts  to  other  points. 
Worse  than  all  this,  as  the  rear  of  the  procession  filed 
by  the  onlookers  crowded  in  behind  it,  and  fairly 
stepped  on  the  heels  of  the  two  boys. 

The  parade  was  now  about  to  traverse  a  section  of 
South  Beaufort — and  Ned  and  Hal,  realizing  that 
they  were  nearing  the  enemy's  country,  grew  a  little 
nervous.  It  was  at  no  little  risk  that  a  boy  from 
Beaufort  proper  crossed  the  dead-line  into  South 
Beaufort — the  lurking  place  of  the  Conners,  and 
"  Slim  "  and  "  Fat "  Sullivan,  and  Luke  McCoy,  and 
"  Big  "  Mike  Farr  and  "  Loppy  "  Lynch,  and  the  rest 
of  the  "  gang  "  ! 

However,  it  was  too  late  to  back  out.  The  rear 
guard  must  hold  its  post. 

Hardly  had  the  tail  of  the  procession  passed  over 
the  South  Beaufort  threshold,  when  rose  the  jeering 
cry: 

"  The  kids  !  Say,  catch  on  to  the  kids  hangin'  on 
behind ! " 

A   lump   of  dirt  slapped   against   Ned's    oilcloth 


The  Campaign  Parade  147 

cape.  Another  knocked  Hal's  cap  askew.  Small 
lads  and  girls  pressed  close  upon  them  and  threatened 
and  mocked,  while  big  brothers  and  sisters  in  the 
background  encouraged. 

The  two  boys  pretended  not  to  notice,  but  looked 
straight  ahead  while  earnestly  wishing  that  they  were 
again  in  their  own  district. 

But  the  worst  was  coming. 

The  nagging  urchins,  urged  on  from  all  sides, 
waxed  bolder,  and  began  to  jerk  at  the  boys'  capes, 
so  that  both  were  being  compelled  to  struggle  along 
like  engines  towing  a  line  of  cars. 

This  was  getting  to  be  too  much. 

"  Oh,  let  go,  will  you  !  "  growled  Ned,  crossly,  turn- 
ing and  giving  his  foremost  tormentor  a  sharp  push. 

"  Hi,  Mike,  he  hit  your  brother !  "  delightedly  rose 
a  chorus  of  voices. 

"  Sock  it  to  him,  Patsy !  Don't  you  stand  it !  "  ad- 
vised others. 

"  Aw,  Patsy  !  To  let  a  feller  like  him  hit  yer !  " 
jeered  still  others. 

Thus  egged  on,  Patsy,  who  was  not  even  up  to 
Ned's  shoulders,  doubled  his  scrawny,  dirty  fists,  and 
scowled  fiercely. 

"  What  did  you  hit  me  fer  ?  I  wasn't  doin'  nothin'," 
he  demanded. 

"  I  didn't  hit  you.  You  were  too ! "  replied 
Ned,  seeking  to  go  on.  But  too  late.  He  was 
hemmed  about,  as  through  magic,  by  a  circle  which  cut 
him  off  from  Hal  and  from  the  procession. 


148  Beaufort  Chums 

The  parade  with  the  blue  cape  snapper  went  its 
way,  unaware  that  it  had  lost  its  frayed  tip,  for  Hal, 
too,  was  having  his  troubles. 

"  G'wan  !  "  sneered  Ned's  mite  of  a  foe,  hunching 
himself  forward,  brave  in  His  knowledge  that  the  ma- 
jority was  with  him. 

"  Soak  it  to  him,  Patsy,"  howled  the  ring  of  spec- 
tators. 

They  took  up  the  playful  practice  of  shoving  one 
another  against  Ned,  who,  like  a  baited  bear,  was  as- 
sailed from  all  sides. 

"  G'wan ! "  piped  Patsy,  again,  trampling  on  Ned's 
toes. 

Somebody  smartly  knocked  Ned's  cap  off.  Some- 
body reached  over  and  wrenched  at  his  torch,  and 
while  he  was  striving  to  keep  it  his  cape  was  neatly 
turned  over  his  head  just  as  Patsy  struck  him  a  sting- 
ing blow  on  the  mouth. 

Blinded  in  his  cape,  poor  Ned  floundered  here  and 
there,  jostled,  kicked,  and  beaten,  until  he  thought 
that  his  last  hour  had  come.  He  lost  his  cap,  and 
he  lost  his  torch,  and  finally  the  fastenings  of  his 
cape  gave  way  and  he  lost  it,  too.  This  proved 
lucky,  for  with  a  plunge  he  broke  the  ring  hemming 
him  in,  and  in  the  mix-up  escaped. 

He  was  discovered. 

"  Here  he  is  !  " 

"  Stop  him  !  " 

"Head  him  off!" 

"  Kill  him ! " 


The  Campaign  Parade  149 

Ned,  never  doubting  that  they  would  "  kill  him  "  if 
they  caught  him,  darted  down  the  street,  and  into  an 
alley,  his  laughing,  whooping  pursuers  full  tilt  after 
him.  Over  fences,  through  yards,  breathless,  desper- 
ate, hunted,  dodged  Ned,  and  the  hue  and  cry  died 
in  the  distance.  He  ventured  out  upon  a  Street,  and 
slackened  to  a  walk. 

Bareheaded,  bruised  and  aching,  his  trappings  in 
the  hands  of  the  enemy,  he  cared  no  more  for  the 
parade.  He  went  straight  home. 

As  he  neared  the  gate,  he  saw  a  figure  sitting  on 
the  horse-block  before  it. 

"  Is  that  you,  Hal  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Hal.     "  Did  they  hurt  you  ?  " 

«  No — not  much,"  asserted  Ned,  going  to  the 
horse-block.  "  Did  they  jump  on  you,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Hal,  with  a  little  sob  in  his  voice. 
"  They  grabbed  me  from  behind,  and  held  me,  and 
then  somebody  hit  me,  and  then  they  all  piled  on 
me — the  dirty  cowards." 

"  So  they  did  on  me,"  announced  Ned,  knowing 
that  misery  loves  company. 

"  They  don't  fight  fair  !  "  sobbed  Hal.  «  And  they 
took  my  cap  and  cape  and  torch." 

"  Mine,  too,"  said  Ned.  "  But  I'll  get  my  father  to 
explain  so  the  men  won't  think  we  stole  them.  And 
we'll  get  even  with  that  South  Beaufort  gang,  some 
day." 

"  You  bet  we  will,"  vowed  Hal,  pulling  himself  to- 


150  Beaufort  Chums 

gether.  "  They  didn't  hurt  me  much,  only  they 
didn't  give  me  any  chance." 

The  boys  compared  notes,  and  found  that  neither 
was  damaged  beyond  a  few  bruises,  and  their 
wounded  spirits.  They  spent  an  hour  going  over 
plans  to  get  even ;  the  best  seemed  to  be  to  enlist 
all  their  friends  for  the  Democratic  parade,  and 
march  through  South  Beaufort,  and  when  the  mo- 
ment came,  to^  turn  on  the  "  gang "  and  simply 
annihilate  it. 

However,  this  plan  did  not  ripen,  mainly  because 
the  Democratic  parade  was  prevented  by  rain. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  TROUBLE  AT  BREEDE'S  HILL 

ED— oh,   Ned!      It's    snowing!"   called 
Mr.  Miller,  up  the  stairs. 

"  Bully !  "  called  back  Ned,  bouncing 
out  of  that  bed  which  only  a  moment  before  he  had 
been  loth  to  leave. 

He  jumped  to  the  window,  and  gazed  out.  The 
big  flakes  swirled  against  the  pane  at  the  end  of  his 
nose.  Air  and  earth  were  white. 

"  Bully !  "  again  exclaimed  Ned,  hustling  on  his 
clothes. 

The  affair  of  the  campaign  parade  was  now  only 
an  irritating  memory ;  a  president  and  vice-president 
had  been  elected ;  processions  were  a  thing  of  the 
past,  with  the  Republican  county  central  committee 
short  two  torches,  two  caps,  and  two  capes ;  winter 
had  arrived  with  a  swoop,  sending  the  wild  fowl 
scurrying  for  the  gulf;  Thanksgiving — a  snapping 
cold  Thanksgiving  of  skating  and  appetites — was 
over ;  and  still  upon  the  frozen  ground  no  snow  had 
fallen. 

But  here  it  was,  at  last,  with  a  vengeance. 

"  Walks  to  clean,  Neddie,"  teased  his  mother. 

"  I  don't  care,"  retorted  Ned,  from  his  room. 

"There!  Don't  forget  that  you've  said  it," 
laughed  his  mother. 


152  Beaufort  Chums 

Now  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter  it  seemed  to 
Ned  that  he  would  as  soon  as  not  shovel  walks. 
Anything  that  had  to  do  with  snow  was  fun. 

All  day  the  snow  fell.  At  first  it  was  in  the  shape 
of  big,  feathery  flakes  which  clung  to  everything 
that  they  touched.  Then,  when  a  good  thick  coat- 
ing had  been  given  the  world,  down  came  the  gritty, 
small  flakes,  sifting  upon  their  larger  predecessors, 
and  piling  up  for  two  feet. 

Thus,  at  the  bottom  was  the  layer  of  damp  "  pack- 
ing "  snow,  and  at  the  top  was  the  colder,  freezing 
layer.  Conditions  for  coasting  could  not  have  been 
better  had  the  Beaufort  young  people  planned  and 
carried  out  to  suit  themselves. 

Moreover,  to-day  was  Thursday.  By  Saturday 
Breede's  Hill  would  be  in  prime  condition. 

With  the  approach  of  night  the  downfall  slack- 
ened. Through  all  the  town  sounded  the  scrape, 
scrape  of  the  snow-shovel.  Ned  added  his  note  to 
the  harmony,  for  he  had  a  front  walk,  and  a  walk 
around  the  house,  and  a  path  to  the  barn,  and  one 
to  the  wood-shed  to  clean,  besides  a  few  trimmings 
such  as  the  horse-block,  and  the  steps  and  porches. 

Bob  welcomed  the  snow  with  great  zest.  He 
frolicked  and  barked,  and  scooped  up  mouthfuls  in 
defiance  of  the  theory  that  eating  snow  gives  one  the 
sore  throat.  No  doubt  he  barked  so  much  that  his 
throat  did  not  have  time  to  get  sore. 

Dogs  have  their  own  rules  of  hygiene,  anyway. 

Ned's  sled  had  been  brought  out  from  summer 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill         153 

quarters  in  the  attic,  and  had  been  waiting  on  the 
back  porch  for  quite  a  month.  Although,  on  ac- 
count of  his  extra  chores,  he  could  not  use  it  at 
once,  during  his  labors  between  school  and  supper 
he.  could  not  resist  giving  it  a  moment  of  exercise — 
just  to  limber  it  up.  It  left  a  red  trail  of  rust ;  but 
he  knew  that  the  rust  would  soon  wear  off. 

This  sled  of  Ned's  was  a  novelty,  and  the  joy  of 
his  heart.  It  was  of  clipper  pattern,  but  very  low — 
not  more  than  four  inches  from  the  ground.  It  had 
sharp  points,  longer  than  its  body;  when  Ned 
flopped  upon  it  the  points  stuck  far  out  before,  and 
his  legs  stuck  far  out  behind.  The  runners  were 
round  steel,  and  well  sprung.  How  that  sled  did  go ! 
It  was  no  good  for  ruts,  or  for  deep  snow,  but  given 
a  smooth  track  it  could  beat  any  sled  in  Beaufort. 
No  matter  how  icy  the  hill,  when  other  sleds  had  a 
tendency  to  veer  and  drift  sideways  this  little  sled 
darted  straight  as  an  arrow  beyond  the  mark  of  all. 

Sighing  because  now  was  night  instead  of  morning 
Ned  restored  the  sled,  with  a  fond  pat  of  promise,  to 
its  corner,  and  went  in  to  supper,  whither  he  had 
been  drawn  for  some  time  by  the  delicious  sizzling 
of  fried  mush. 

Friday  broke  bright  as  a  new  dollar,  with  sunshine 
that  proved  just  warm  enough  to  soften  the  snow  and 
settle  it.  Around  school  passed  the  word  among 
Ned  and  Hal  and  Tom  and  kindred  spirits  to  "  come 
to  Breede's  Hill  and  help  break  it." 

Breede's    Hill — ah,  but  that  was  a  hill  for  you! 


154  Beaufort  Chums 

Two  blocks  of  slope  and  two  blocks  more  of  slide, 
and  all,  in  the  height  of  the  season,  as  smooth  as 
oil !  Here  were  four  blocks  of  street  practically 
given  over  to  the  coasters.  For  a  driver  to  try  the 
slippery  incline,  either  on  wheels  or  on  runners,  was 
foolhardy ;  while  to  cross  at  the  base  was  to  invite  a 
sudden  attack  from  catapult  bob  or  sled. 

A  bob  had  been  known  to  scoot  right  between  the 
wheels  of  a  wagon,  and  not  hurt  a  thing,  so  swift 
was  it  going ;  and  Ned  himself,  horrified,  unable  to 
stop,  had  taken  the  legs  from  under  a  stupid  cow; 
but  when  she  had  reached  the  snow  with  a  thump  he 
had  been  far  away. 

Breede's  Hill  had  been  so  dubbed  by  some  history 
enthusiast;  on  the  next  street  south  was  Bunker 
Hill,  in  like  manner  named.  It  was  not  a  proper 
hill  for  coasting,  being  rocky,  and  having  a  sharp 
curve. 

On  this  Friday  afternoon  after  school  Ned,  ac- 
companied by  Bob,  gaily  dragged  his  snake-like  sled 
to  Breede's  Hill.  Here  he  and  a  dozen  others  toiled 
lustily  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  breaking  a  track.  One 
or  two  sleighs  had  been  along  the  road,  but  the 
snow  lay  deep  and  white,  with  its  possibilities  still 
undeveloped. 

It  was  necessary  to  tramp  the  snow  down,  and 
drag  sleds  through  it,  sideways,  and  even  to  roll  in 
it,  in  order  to  clear  a  path  which,  under  the  friction 
of  the  runners,  should  become  hard  and  "  slick." 

To  the  tramping  and  scraping,  and  frolicsome  roll- 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill          155 

ing  Bob  lent  nothing  but  his  noisy  good-will  and  ap- 
plause. One  would  have  thought,  noting  his  hilarity, 
that  the  snow  and  the  boys  had  come  together  sim- 
ply for  his  entertainment ! 

Finally  a  track  deemed  worthy  of  being  tested 
had  been  leveled,  and  the  first  coast  of  the  season 
was  made,  with  a  whoop  of  joy,  by  the  other  bob  in 
the  party — the  bob-sled. 

Farther  and  farther,  each  time,  went  the  bob,  with 
the  single  sleds — all  but  that  of  Ned — in  the  party, 
bringing  up  behind.  Ned  rode  on  the  bob,  until  the 
moment  when  the  track  should  be  hard  and  fit  for 
his  low  clipper. 

This  was  the  only  drawback  to  that  pride  of  his 
heart :  it  was  useless  in  loose  snow,  or  in  ruts. 

At  dark,  by  dint  of  much  play  which  seemed  like 
work,  Breede's  Hill  was  fit  for  the  final  polishing,  by 
a  hundred  and  more  runners,  on  the  morrow.  Ned 
went  home,  and  Bob  went  home,  and  the  other  boys 
went  home,  hungry  and  well  satisfied ;  and  none  was 
more  hungry  or  more  satisfied  than  Bob,  who  had 
done  the  least  and  fussed  the  most. 

"  Say — but  the  hill  is  getting  dandy  !  "  exclaimed 
Ned,  at  dinner,  Saturday,  to  which  he  had  come 
panting  and  damp  and  perfectly  empty. 

"  So  you're  tired  of  that  gun,  already,  are  you, 
Neddie  ?  "  remarked  his  mother,  quietly. 

"  My,  no  !  "  denied  Ned,  in  alarm.  "  But  the  hill's 
splendid,  anyway.  It's  almost  slick  as  glass. 

"  The  whole  town  will  be  there,  this  afternoon," 


156  Beaufort  Chums 

he  added,  poising  a  generous  mouthful  of  apple 
pie. 

"  I  won't  be  there,"  said  his  mother. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  his  father. 

"  Well,  all  the  kids  and  girls  will,"  explained  Ned ; 
and  the  chunk  of  pie  disappeared,  to  fill  some  mys- 
terious crevice  inside.  "  Shoveling  in  fuel,"  his 
father  termed  Ned's  eating  during  the  cold  weather ; 
but  whether  the  statement  was  true  or  a  joke,  the 
reader  must  judge  according  to  his  own  experience. 

That  afternoon  it  really  did  seem  that  Ned  had 
not  exaggerated.  Breede's  Hill  was  in  its  glory,  and 
"  the  whole  town "  was  on  hand,  with  sleds  of  all 
descriptions. 

The  track  had  been  packed  solid,  and  glistened  in 
the  glancing  rays  of  the  sun.  Downward  sped,  with 
shrill  shrieks  from  the  girls  and  wild  halloos  of  warn- 
ing from  the  boys,  a  torrent  of  figures  showing  black 
against  the  white  background ;  and  upward  toiled, 
along  either  side  of  the  torrent,  a  swarm  of  other 
black  figures,  to  halt,  and  gather,  and  turn  at  the 
crest. 

Bob  was  there,  a  privileged  character.  Not  a  dog 
in  Beaufort  was  so  widely  or  favorably  known. 
What  fun  he  found  here  at  a  place  where  he 
was  almost  the  only  one  whose  legs  had  to  take 
him  down  hill  as  well  as  up,  is  a  problem.  Like 
a  flash  Ned  on  his  clipper  shot  from  top  to  bottom 
— and  skirting  the  track,  with  tongue  out  and  with 
excited  yelps,  falling  farther  and  farther  behind,  after 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill          157 

him  raced  Bob,  not  to  catch  him  until  the  sled  had 
stopped.  Up  trudged  Ned,  hauling  his  sled,  with 
Bob  at  last  by  his  heels ;  and  the  performance  was 
repeated. 

At  the  hill  all  now  was  gaiety  and  glee.  The  only 
thing  to  mar,  ever  so  slightly,  the  sport,  was  the 
presence  of  a  party  from  South  Beaufort.  Eight 
strong  they  had  arrived,  with  their  bob ;  and  dis- 
coloring the  snow  with  tobacco,  and  swearing  freely, 
they  had  proceeded  to  impress  the  others  with  their 
importance. 

^lowever,  beyond  elbowing  their  way  about  freely, 
and  profaning  snow  and  air,  and  acting  just  as  they 
pleased,  they  had  made  no  especial  trouble,  and  Ned 
and  the  other  boys  tried  to  pay  no  attention  to  them. 

By  this  time  two  grooves  had  been  worn  in  the 
track,  and  along  them  rushed,  with  no  steering 
needed,  the  sleds  great  and  small.  The  street 
crossings  were  hair-raising  bumps,  which  caused 
each  sled  to  leap  like  a  frightened  colt.  Highest 
of  all  bounced  Ned  on  his  light  clipper,  and  farthest 
of  all  he  went,  setting  a  mark  which  none  could 
touch.  Still  firm  in  his  faith  that  some  time  he 
would  catch  him  was  Bob,  racing  madly  down,  and 
panting  sedately  up. 

At  last  merely  sliding  down  hill  ceased  to  prove  of 
much  interest  to  the  South  Beauforters.  Trouble 
was  what  they  wanted;  trouble  they  would  have; 
and  the  meaner  the  brand  the  better  it  would  suit 
them. 


158  Beaufort  Chums 

They  began  to  bully  the  smaller  boys,  and  to 
blockade,  as  though  by  accident,  but  really  with  sly 
malice,  the  steps  of  the  larger.  They  sent  girls' 
sleds  careening  down  the  slope,  and  in  a  hundred 
ways  made  themselves  a  dread  and  an  annoyance. 

"  Come  on,  Ned,  let's  go  home,"  pleaded  little 
Tennie  Loders,  who  lived  near  Ned,  plucking  him 
by  the  sleeve.  "  I'm  cold." 

"  He's  afraid,"  scoffed  Sam  Higgs.  "  That's  what's 
the  matter  with  him." 

"  You  run  along,  Tennie,"  said  Ned.  "  But  I'm 
not  going  to  leave  till  I  get  good  and  ready.  £Jo- 
body's  going  to  drive  me  off,  you  bet." 

"  Who's  tryin'  to  drive  you  off?  Say,  kid,  who's 
tryin'  to  drive  you  off?  "  sneered  Big  Mike  Farr,  who 
overheard. 

"  I  didn't  say  anybody  was,  did  I  ?  "  returned  Ned, 
stoutly. 

"  Well,  don't  go  shootin'  off  your  lip  'round  here, 
then,"  grumbled  Big  Mike,  in  an  ugly  tone.  He 
waited  to  see  if  Ned  wouldn't  answer  back  and 
give  him  a  better  chance  to  force  a  fight ;  but  Ned 
never  spoke  a  word,  and  the  South  Beauforter  slouched 
back  among  his  fellows,  while  they  laughed  loudly. 

For  a  brief  space  the  coasting  continued  without 
especial  incident.  However,  this  was  only  a  lull, 
during  which  the  South  Beauforters  were  but  bid- 
ing their  chance.  Presently  it  came. 

As  they  artfully  lingered  around  their  bob-sled,  at 
the  end  of  the  track,  they  saw  Ned,  head  on,  sweep- 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill         159 

ing  toward  them  upon  his  clipper.  Just  as  he  reached 
them  they  neatly  jerked  their  heavy  bob  square  across 
his  path.  There  was  no  time  for  him  to  swerve. 
With  a  thud  he  struck  broadside  the  rearmost  of  the 
two  sleds.  The  clipper  stopped  short,  as  though 
killed;  but  Ned  himself  went  plunging  on,  clear 
over  the  bob,  to  plough  the  snow  and  slush  with 
face  and  hands  and  stomach. 

He  scrambled  up  wet,  furious,  yet  willing,  if 
allowed,  to  accept  the  mishap  as  a  bit  of  rude 
joking.  He  felt  that  discretion  was  here  the 
better  part  of  valor. 

However,  he  was  not  given  any  choice  in  the 
matter. 

"  Say,"  accosted  Big  Mike,  again,  as  Ned  walked 
forward,  while  brushing  himself  off,  to  get  his  sled, 
"  what  do  you  mean  by  runnin'  into  us  ?  Ain't  you 
got  eyes  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  help  it,"  said  Ned.  "  I  didn't  have 
time  to  turn  out." 

"  You  did,  too,"  snarled  a  Conner,  giving  Ned's 
innocent  clipper  a  vicious  kick  into  the  ditch. 

"  I  didn't.  You  pulled  your  bob  across  the  track 
on  purpose — you  know  you  did,"  accused  Ned, 
goaded  beyond  bearing. 

The  words  were  attracting  a  little  knot  of  specta- 
tors and  listeners,  and  as  Ned  started  to  rescue  his 
beloved  sled  from  the  ditch  Bob  nosed  into  the  circle, 
seeking  him.  Whereupon  a  South  Beauforter  planted 
his  toe  in  Bob's  astonished  ribs. 


160  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Ki  yi !  yi,  yi,  yi !  "  yelped  Bob,  and  the  sound 
was  to  Ned  a  bugle  call  to  action. 

"  Here — you'd  better  not  do  that  again  !  "  he 
warned,  returning  with  a  spring. 

"  Do  what  again  ?  "  demanded  Big  Mike,  threaten- 
ingly. 

"  Hurt  that  dog.  He's  never  done  anything  to 
you,"  asserted  Ned,  his  blood  up  in  defense  of  his 
faithful  partner. 

"  Aw,  who's  hurtin'  yer  dog  ?  "  scoffed  Big  Mike — 
at  the  same  instant  aiming  another  blow  at  Bob, 
shivering  close  against  his  master's  legs. 

Ned  responded  with  a  violent  shove  that  nearly 
took  the  South  Beauforter  off  his  feet. 

"  Hit  him,  Mike  ! " 

"  Smash  him  one  in  the  jaw !  " 

"  Aw,  I  wouldn't  stan'  that  from  nobody  ! " 

"  Paste  it  to  him  !  " 

"  He's  the  cully  what  struck  Patsy  !  " 

Amid  this  clamor  from  his  backers  Big  Mike 
doubled  his  fists  and  stuck  his  face  close  up  to 
Ned's. 

"  Who  you  shovin',  anyway  ?  "  he  snarled,  treading 
on  Ned's  toes,  at  the  same  time  shouldering  him  vio- 
lently backward. 

"  You  ! "  answered  Ned,  boldly,  recovering  his  bal- 
ance. 

"  Don't  take  any  of  his  lip  !  " 

"  Punch  him  in  the  nose ! " 

"  Aw,  Mike !     'Feared  of  a  kid  like  that ! " 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill          161 

Thus  urged,  and  with  his  gang  pressing  closer  and 
closer  about  them,  Big  Mike  swung  his  clenched 
hands  back  and  forth,  menacingly,  and  growled : 

"  Tryin'  to  pick  a  fight,  ain't  ye  ?  I've  a  notion  to 
lam  the  tar  out  o'  you  ! " 

"  You  can't  do  it,  alone,"  challenged  Ned.  "  You 
know  your  gang  will  pitch  in  and  help,  if  you're  get- 
ting licked." 

"  Naw,  we  won't.  Of  course  we  won't,"  cried  the 
South  Beauforters,  in  a  chorus.  "  It'll  be  fair  play  ; 
sure  it  will !  " 

Ned  knew  that  this  was  a  lie.  The  South  Beau- 
forters never  fought  fair.  They  were  wolves,  attack- 
ing from  both  front  and  rear,  and  five  to  one.  Be- 
sides, they  bit  and  kicked  and  gouged,  and  had  no 
mercy.  Fair  ?  Not  much  ! 

Ned  gazed  hastily  around  the  circle,  seeking  some 
one  who  might  second  him,  and  protect  his  back. 
But  of  Hal  or  Tom  or  others  of  his  chums  he  saw 
not  a  sign.  They  must  be  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  or 
climbing,  and  ignorant  of  his  fix. 

His  heart  sank  a  little. 

However,  he  was  not  afraid  of  Big  Mike,  in  a  fair 
fight.  "  Big  Mike "  had  been  thus  nicknamed  be- 
cause he  had  been  overgrown  ;  but  now,  stunted  as 
he  was  by  tobacco  and  by  evil  habits,  flat-footed  and 
with  hulking  shoulders,  no  longer  was  he  large  for 
his  age.  Ned,  on  his  own  part,  had  been  leaping 
ahead  by  inches,  until  now  he  equaled  Mike  in 
height,  although  considerably  outweighed.  But 


162  Beaufort  Chums 

whatever  advantage  came  to  the  one  from  weight 
was  more  than  balanced  by  the  other's  wiriness  and 
strength  of  limb  gained  on  river  and  in  wood  and 
field. 

Ned  was  not  given  much  time  in  which  to  look 
about  or  debate  over  his  situation.  Shoved  by  a 
member  of  the  gang,  after  the  fashion  of  the  kind, 
Big  Mike  came  jamming  into  him,  and  swinging  at 
the  same  time  cuffed  him  a  blow  on  the  ear.  At  this 
Ned  poked  stiffly  upward  with  his  right  fist,  and  his 
knuckles  met  Big  Mike's  teeth. 

Big  Mike  backed  away  a  step,  and  dabbled  at  his 
mouth  with  his  fingers. 

«  Say — did  you  go  to  do  that  ?  "  he  roared. 

"  You  hit  me  first,"  replied  Ned,  angrily. 

With  a  volley  of  oaths,  and  a  kick  and  a  blow  de- 
livered together,  Big  Mike  charged  at  him — a  regular 
wildcat. 

A  little  murmur  of  "  Oh's  "  and  "  Ah's  "  went  up 
from  Ned's  sympathizers. 

"  Give  it  to  him,  Mike  !  Give  it  to  him  !  "  cheered 
the  South  Beauforters,  crazy  with  delight. 

The  blow  took  Ned  on  the  top  of  the  head  ;  but  the 
kick  fell  short.  Ned  grabbed  the  leg  and  heaved  up 
on  it,  until  Big  Mike  tottered  and  took  a  heavy  fall. 

He  was  on  his  feet  in  an  instant,  and  with  head 
down  butted  for  Ned's  stomach.  Hindered  by  the 
crafty  gang  Ned  could  do  nothing  but  accept  the  at- 
tack, and  bump  his  opponent's  nose  with  his  lifted 
knee  ;  and  now  Big  Mike,  head  into  his  stomach,  had 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill         163 

him  tightly  about  the  waist  and  was  striving  to  bend 
him  backward.  Ned  doubled  forward  and  while  try- 
ing to  keep  his  balance  reached  under  and  punched 
Big  Mike's  face. 

It  was  a  deadlock,  Big  Mike  straining,  and  Ned 
poking,  and  neither  much  the  worse  off. 

But  the  South  Beauforters  could  not  hold  back  any 
longer.  Weaving  in  and  out  so  as  always  to  be  back 
of  Ned  as  the  fighters  shifted  and  struggled  in  a  circle, 
they  aimed  treacherous  blows  at  him ;  and  at  this 
crisis  little  Patsy,  keen  to  aid  his  brother,  darting  in 
seized  Ned  by  the  ankles  and  enabled  Big  Mike  to 
bring  him  to  the  ground. 

"  Shame  !    No  fair !  "  cried  indignant  boys  and  girls. 

Even  at  this  juncture  Ned  was  by  no  means  de- 
feated. His  blood  was  roused,  and  he  felt  that  he 
was  battling  for  his  life.  Big  Mike  tried  to  sit  astride 
of  him,  but  he  might  as  well  have  tried  to  sit  on  an 
eel.  Ned  wriggled  and  twisted,  and  out  of  the  rough- 
and-tumble  behold  the  picture  of  Ned  on  the  top ; 
with  Big  Mike's  hands  clenched  in  his  hair,  it  is  true ; 
but  nevertheless,  Ned  on  top  ! 

To  off-set  the  hair-grip,  his  thumb  was  against  the 
side  of  Big  Mike's  nose,  pressing  that  individual's 
head  sidewise  until  his  cheek  was  in  the  slush. 

It  was  not  a  picture  of  beauty.  Big  Mike's  lips 
were  bleeding,  and  Ned's  left  eye  was  inflamed  where 
Big  Mike  had  brutally  stuck  a  thumb,  to  gouge. 
The  faces  of  both  were  red,  and  Ned's  necktie  was 
streaming  over  his  shoulder. 


164  Beaufort  Chums 

Nor  was  the  picture  pleasing  to  Big  Mike's  cronies. 
Their  champion  was  in  the  worse  position  of  the  two. 
So  the  Conners,  with  a  curt  command  :  "  Aw,  get  off 
of  him,  will  you  !  "  jumped  in  and  obligingly  turned 
the  pair  over. 

This  was  the  South  Beaufort  way  of  winning 
fights. 

In  the  meantime  little  Zu-zu  Pearce,  leaving  the 
other  girls,  who,  with  awe-stricken  faces  and  throb- 
bing hearts,  unable  to  tear  themselves  away,  lingered 
on  the  outskirts,  ran  with  all  her  might  for  the  hill. 
Up  the  slope  she  labored,  slipping  and  puffing,  until 
near  the  top  she  overtook  her  brother,  and  Hal  and 
a  half  dozen  others,  trudging  with  their  bob  for  the 
crest  and  a  coast. 

"  Tom  !  "  screamed  Zu-zu,  frantically.  "  Oh,  Tom 
— the  South  Beaufort  fellows  have  got  Ned  Miller  at 
the  bottom  of  the  hill,  and  are  beating  him  awful ! 
They  won't  let  him  fight  Big  Mike  fair." 

"  Gee !  Come  on,  fellows  !  "  exclaimed  Tom  ;  and 
in  a  jiffy  the  bob  was  jerked  about,  and  with  the  boys 
recklessly  piling  on  was  speeding  down  the  track,  for 
the  fight. 

Close  in  their  wake  sped  also  a  following  of  single 
sleds — for  the  news  had  spread  like  lightning. 

"  Goody  !  Here  they  come  !  "  cried  the  anxious 
girls,  dancing  in  joy.  "  Oh,  hurry,  hurry  !  " 

Slim  Conner  heard,  and  glimpsed  the  reinforce- 
ments dashing  down  the  slope  for  the  scene.  He 
heard  the  shouts,  and  his  mind  acted  quickly : 


The  Trouble  at  Breeders  Hill         165 

"  Cheese  it,  lads !  Here's  the  hull  crowd ! "  he 
warned,  hoarsely. 

"  Come  away,  Mike ! "  warned  Patsy,  tugging  at 
his  brother. 

Mike  wrenched  himself  loose  from  the  grip  of  the 
prostrate  Ned,  and  with  a  final  kick  at  his  victim's 
head  ducked  through  the  circle;  and  off,  up  the 
road,  ran  the  South  Beauforters,  dragging  their  bob. 

Hal  and  Tom  and  the  rest  of  the  rescuers  arrived 
too  late,  although  they  had  ditched  their  bob,  with- 
out waiting  for  it  to  stop,  and  had  rolled  into  the 
midst  of  the  ring. 

A  few  of  the  boys  chased  the  South  Beauforters  a 
block  or  two,  just  as  a  threat ;  but  Hal  and  Tom 
stayed  to  attend  to  Ned. 

"  Shucks,  he  didn't  hurt  me  a  bit,"  vowed  Ned, 
scorning  assistance  as  he  scrambled  to  his  feet. 

"  You're  going  to  have  a  black  eye,  all  right 
enough,  though,"  assured  Tom. 

"  Am  I  ?  "  asked  Ned,  cautiously  feeling  of  his  in- 
jured face. 

"  Well,  just  the  same  he  was  licking  Big  Mike,  if 
they  hadn't  all  pitched  on  to  him  ! "  declared  Tennie 
Loders,  stanchly. 

"  Look  at  my  knuckles,  where  I  hit  him  in  the 
mouth,  will  you  !  "  said  Ned,  proudly. 

"  Here's  your  necktie,  Ned,"  proffered  Harriett 
Taylor,  holding  it  out  to  the  hero  of  the  hour. 

Ned  tied  it  on  in  a  crooked  knot,  while  the  crowd 
watched  him  admiringly. 


i66  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Where  were  you  fellows  ?  Who  told  you  about 
it  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Why,  we  were  going  ahead  coasting,"  explained 
Hal.  "  Zu-zu  was  the  one  who  told  us,  and  then  we 
came  lickity-split." 

"Bully  for  Zu-zu!"  exclaimed  Ned.  "She's  a 
dandy ! " 

"  I  had  to  run  all  the  way  up  hill,"  said  Zu-zu, 
modestly,  just  arriving. 

"  Well,  I'll  remember  you,  all  right,  for  it,"  prom- 
ised Ned.  "  I'll  give  you  ducks'  wings  till  you  can't 
rest." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  do  it  for  that ! "  cried  Zu-zu,  skip- 
ping off. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  home,  Ned  ?  "  inquired  Hal, 
tenderly. 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  declared  Ned.  "  I'm  going 
to  slide  some  more.  It'll  take  more  than  a  black 
eye  to  get  me  off  this  hill !  " 

And  during  this  recent  fracas,  what  of  Bob — Bob, 
who  brought  on  the  fray  ?  The  rule  of  romance  de- 
mands that  he  should  have  launched  himself  to  Ned's 
aid,  and  put  the  enemy  to  flight  with  his  teeth.  But 
no  ;  this  history  must  take  a  different  course.  Twice 
kicked  by  heavy  boots,  to  which  he  had  done  no 
wrong ;  trampled  upon  by  many  feet,  and  thrust 
aside  by  many  legs,  quite  regardless  of  the  plight  into 
which  he  had  forced  his  master,  he  had  turned  tail 
and  had  trotted  for  home. 

In  his  own  mind,  he  had  been  sorely  abused ;  and 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill         167 

with  the  spirits  taken  out  of  him  by  the  ill-treatment, 
he  made  straight  for  shelter. 

When  his  master  appeared,  with  eye  now  sur- 
rounded by  a  blue-black  mat,  Bob,  never  considering 
it,  seemed  to  think  that  himself,  and  not  Ned,  had 
been  the  sufferer. 


CHAPTER  XI 
THE  ROUTING  OF  BIG  MIKE 

ALTHOUGH  Bob  was,  as  it  seemed,  so  callous 
to  Ned's  black  eye,  not  so  with  the  other 
members  of  the  household. 

Filled  with  recipes  from  his  friends,  for  changing  a 
black  eye  to  normal  white,  Ned  returned  home,  and 
unseen  save  by  Bob,  gained  his  room.  He  put  in  an 
anxious  half  hour  experimenting ;  but  at  the  end  his 
eye  seemed  blacker  than  ever — a  dense,  deep,  wicked 
black.  It  seemed  to  Ned  that  there  was  nothing  to 
his  face  but  that  black  eye ;  and  assuming  a  manner 
of  unconcern  he  descended  the  stairs  and  went  about 
his  chores. 

"  N-Ned ! "  gasped  his  mother,  meeting  him  in 
the  kitchen.  Maggie,  the  girl,  giggled.  Ned  dropped 
his  armful  of  wood  into  the  wood-box  with  the  usual 
crash,  and  answered,  mildly,  keeping  his  head  down 
while  he  pretended  to  arrange  some  of  the  sticks. 

"  Yes,  ma'am  ?  " 

"  Look  up  here." 

Ned  obeyed,  trying  to  present  only  his  white  side. 

"  Why,  what  in  the  world  have  you  been  doing  ? 
Is  that  a  bruise  around  your  eye,  or  is  it  dirt?" 

"  Bruise,  I  guess,"  responded  Ned,  shuffling  his  feet 
uneasily. 

1 68 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  169 

"  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  Fight.     Fellow  stuck  his  thumb  in  it." 

Ned  wished  that  his  mother  would  let  him  alone ; 
but  she  would  not. 

"The  very  idea!  Whom  did  you  have  a  fight 
with?" 

"  Big  Mike  Farr — and  I'd  have  licked  him  only 
they  all  jumped  onto  me." 

"  Come  here  and  let  me  look  at  it,"  bade  his 
mother,  aghast. 

Ned  approached,  sheepish  in  mien,  yet  determined 
to  stick  up  for  himself  in  case  she  took  him  to  task. 

But  she  did  not.  She  stood  him  by  the  sink,  and 
while  she  treated  his  wound  with  homely  remedies, 
applied  by  soft  touch,  she  let  him  tell  his  battle- 
story.  And  when  his  story  and  his  treatment  had 
been  finished  together,  and  he  had  emerged  with  a 
huge  bandage  encircling  his  crown  like  a  turban,  she 
only  sighed : 

"  Oh,  Neddie !     Why  will  boys  fight ! " 

"  Indeed,  ma'am,  an'  I  for  one  am  mighty  glad  that 
he  wor  havin'  the  best  of  that  Mike  Farr,"  blurted 
Maggie,   who    had    been    listening   with   approval. 
"  Sure,  Mike  Farr  is  nothin'  but  a  coward  an'  a  blow. 
/  know  him ;  I  know  him  well,  bad  cess  to  him." 
"  He's  mean,  isn't  he,  Maggie?  "  appealed  Ned. 
"  That  he  is.     He'll  come  to  the  gallows  ;  he  will. 
An'  all  that  South  Beaufort  gang,  too.     Yes,  I  know 
'em,"  declared  Maggie,  wagging  her  head.     "  They're 
regular  little  divils." 


l  jo  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Maggie ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Miller,  somewhat 
shocked. 

"  Well,  they'd  better  not  tackle  us  fellows  again," 
asserted  Ned,  swaggering  out  for  another  armful  of 
wood. 

Maggie  gazed  after  him  admiringly. 

"  Sure,  an'  I  bet  he's  a  fighter  when  he  gets 
started,"  she  mused.  "  Look  at  them  legs  an'  arms  ! 
An'  Big  Mike  twice  his  size,  too." 

"  Maggie,"  reproved  Mrs.  Miller,  "  I  don't  want 
you  to  encourage  Ned  in  fighting.  I  don't  like  it." 

And  she  withdrew  in  dignity  to  the  sitting-room, 
where,  safe  in  privacy,  she  did  not  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  be  provoked.  At  any  rate,  she  did  not 
relish  the  idea  of  her  Neddie  going  about  with  a 
chip  on  his  shoulder,  challenging  boys  "  twice  his 
size,"  according  to  Maggie. 

Mr.  Miller,  coming  home,  from  afar  descried 
Ned's  turban  as  it  bobbed  around  in  the  back 
yard. 

"  Hello,"  he  hailed.  "  That's  a  new  kind  of  cap, 
isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  smiled  Ned.  "And  I've  got  a  new 
eye,  too.  Want  to  see  it  ?  "  and  advancing  toward 
the  front  to  meet  his  father  he  obligingly  lifted  the 
bandage. 

"  Phew ! "  said  Mr.  Miller,  gravely.  "  I  think  I 
prefer  the  old  eye.  Was  this  a  present  ?  " 

"  I  traded  for  it,"  laughed  Ned. 

His  father  put  a  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  to- 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  171 

gather  they  entered  the  house.  Here  Ned,  helped 
out  by  his  mother,  again  made  his  explanations. 
At  the  close  his  father  simply  said : 

"  Well,  Ned,  I  don't  see  how  you  could  have  acted 
any  differently — but  I  don't  approve  of  fighting,  any 
more  than  does  your  mother.  Fighting  is  not  al- 
ways a  fair  test  of  your  side  of  a  question,  you 
know.  It  is  better  to  avoid  a  fight  by  every  honor- 
able means  in  your  power.  Sometimes  it  is  more 
cowardly  to  fight  than  to  keep  from  fighting.  But 
if  you  can't  avoid  it,"  he  added,  quizzically ;  "  if 
there's  nothing  left  to  do,  to  save  honor,  but  fight, 
then  fight  for  all  there  is  in  you  ! " 

"  Will !  "  protested  Mrs.  Miller,  horrified. 

"  But  if  I  had  to  fight — just  had  to  fight — you'd 
want  me  to  lick,  wouldn't  you,  mother  ?  "  appealed 
Ned. 

"  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  your  fighting  at  all, 
Neddie,"  declared  his  mother,  firmly. 

Ned's  black  eye  went  away  rapidly — although  not 
so  rapidly  as  it  had  come — and  he  was  made  to 
wear  the  bandage  only  a  short  time.  For  this  he 
was  thankful,  since  warm  weather  arrived,  and  with 
it  "  good  packing " — and  what  boy  can  throw 
straight  with  but  one  eye. 

At  first  the  thaw  improved  the  coasting,  but  in 
the  end  it  spoiled  it.  So  long  as  the  coasting  lasted 
the  South  Beaufort  gang  continued  to  use  the  hill, 
but  no  more  fights  occurred. 

The   two    crowds   let  each   other  alone,  carefully 


172  Beaufort  Chums 

ignoring  each  other's  presence,  the  only  exception 
being  when  Bob  dropped  his  tail  between  his  legs, 
reminded  of  past  insults,  and  raised  the  bristles  on 
his  back,  and  when  Ned  and  Big  Mike  exchanged 
scowls  of  mutual  defiance.  In  this  by-play  of  looks 
Ned  came  off  rather  the  worse,  his  eye  still  showing 
up,  while  Big  Mike  was  apparently  as  good — or  as 
bad — as  ever. 

The  careful  truce,  however,  was  merely  the  calm 
before  the  storm.  Big  Mike  and  his  companions 
were  biding  their  time. 

Much  to  Ned's  disappointment,  the  thaw  merged 
into  a  Saturday  of  foggy  drizzle,  under  which  the 
snow  silently  ran  away  in  water,  instead  of  as 
silently,  but  more  slowly,  vanishing  as  vapor  into 
the  air. 

Bound  to  have  what  few  coasts  might  yet  be  found 
on  the  hill,  Ned  and  Bob  hastened  there  the  moment 
that  they  had  finished  their  early  morning  chores — 
"  their  "  chores,  for  Bob,  although  of  no  real  help  in 
a  manual  way,  always  faithfully  "  stood  by." 

At  the  same  time  with  Ned  and  Bob,  arrived  on 
the  hill  Hal  and  Tom.  Les'  Porter,  Orrie  Lukes,  and 
three  or  four  other  boys  already  were  there,  and 
several  more  came  within  a  few  moments. 

The  coasting  was  miserable.  The  track  was  slush 
down  to  bare  road,  and  from  top  to  bottom  the  sled- 
runners  tore  through  with  a  "  squshy "  sound. 
Ned's  clipper  loyally  set  out  to  carry  him  as  far 
and  as  swiftly  as  ever,  but  after  a  few  trials  he  was 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  173 

obliged  to  retire  it  to  one  side,  and  take  a  seat  on 
Hal's  bob. 

So  poor  was  the  going,  that  when  a  party  of  South 
Beauforters  appeared  at  the  crest,  they  looked  on  for 
a  minute,  sneeringly,  and  then  slouched  away,  bobs, 
and  all,  in  the  direction  whence  they  had  come. 

"  Good  riddance !  "  scoffed  Ned. 

"  Good  riddance  !  "  congratulated  the  crowd  gen- 
erally, following  his  example. 

Bob  flaunted  his  tail  at  the  retreating  backs. 

Half  an  hour  passed.  The  coasters,  now  about 
twenty — including  girls  and  small  boys — were,  as  it 
happened,  for  the  most  part  at  the  top,  preparing  to 
plough  down  again  along  the  soft  course,  when 
"thud!"  "slap!"  "biff!"  into  their  midst  tore  a 
hail  of  snowballs,  smashing  on  face  and  body  and 
sled. 

"  Ki !  "  yapped  Bob,  startled  by  a  stinging  missile. 

"  Ouch ! "  exclaimed  Jeff  Patting,  clapping  his 
hand  to  his  cheek. 

Before  the  astounded  coasters  could  look  around, 
hurtled  upon  them  another  volley,  escorted  by  a 
slogan  of  shrill,  triumphant,  vengeful  yells. 

South  Beauforters ! 

That  riddance  had  not  been  so  "  good,"  after  all. 
Reinforced,  the  party  was  returning,  and  pouring 
from  the  mouth  of  a  convenient  alley,  down  swept 
the  enemy,  to  profit  by  his  sudden  approach. 

Big  Mike  was  there,  and  the  Conners  were  there, 
and  Patsy,  as  fierce  as  any  of  them,  was  there. 


174  Beaufort  Chums 

South  Beaufort  had  been  wily  enough  to  use  the  hill 
while  the  hill  was  usable ;  but  at  last,  in  this  day  of 
slush,  it  was  free  to  throw  off  its  mask  and  declare 
war. 

The  coasters  scattered.  The  small  boys,  some  of 
them  frightened  or  hurt  into  crying,  ran  for  home ; 
the  girls,  with  scornful  looks,  disdaining  to  hurry, 
withdrew  in  fair  order  to  a  safe  distance;  and  the 
larger  boys,  diverging  to  different  points  of  the  com- 
pass as  they  essayed  to  reply  yet  bring  off  their  sleds 
safely,  sought  here  and  there  for  refuge. 

With  taunting  cries  the  South  Beauforters  attacked 
them  viciously,  worrying  their  every  step. 

"  Watch  out !  They're  throwing  '  soakers  '  !  " 
warned  Ned,  as,  keeping  together,  he  and  Hal  and 
Tom,  dragging  their  bob,  answering  snowball  with 
snowball  and  taunt  with  taunt,  stubbornly  gave 
ground  up  the  opposite  alley. 

"Oh,  Ned!  You  left  your  sled!"  suddenly  ex- 
claimed Hal,  stopping  short. 

"  Say ! "  uttered  Ned,  taking  a  hasty  step  to- 
ward the  crest  again. 

But  too  late.  The  crest  was  in  possession  of  the 
South  Beauforters,  and  at  the  moment  they  had  dis- 
covered the  clipper,  deserted  and  lying  in  the  ditch ! 
Big  Mike  it  was  who  hauled  it  forth,  Big  Mike  it  was 
who  gleefully  waggled  its  rope,  Big  Mike  it  was  who 
whooped  the  loudest  and  the  most  maddening. 

"  Hey !  You  leave  that  sled  alone ! "  yelled  Ned, 
shaking  his  fist. 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  175 

"  You  come  and  get  it !  "  retorted  Big  Mike. 

"  I  would  if  you  were  alone,"  asserted  Ned. 

"  Aw,  I'll  give  you  another  black  eye,"  gibed 
Mike,  while  Ned  dodged  one  well-aimed  shot,  and 
caught  a  second  on  the  leg. 

"  Just  you  wait  till  we  put  up  this  bob,"  threatened 
Hal. 

"Yes,  'just  wait,'"  mocked  Big  Mike  and  his 
gang. 

The  bob  was  put  up  in  short  order  by  chucking  it 
over  the  alley  fence  of  Hal's  home ;  then  back  rushed 
the  boys,  to  re-engage  the  foe. 

They  resolved  that  Ned  must  have  his  sled,  at  all 
hazard.  It  was  awful,  to  think  of  it  in  the  hands 
of  that  Mike.  True  little  sled,  the  best  sled  in  town. 

As  for  Bob  the  dog,  for  all  the  aid  he  was  to  them, 
they  might  as  well  have  chucked  him,  too,  over  the 
fence  and  left  him.  He  was  no  good  when  it  came 
to  this  righting  at  long  range,  and  with  his  tail  tightly 
reefed,  and  his  ears  down,  and  an  expression  of  in- 
tense discomfort,  he  clung  close  to  Ned's  calves. 

Bob  was  no  coward,  but  what  dog  likes  to  have 
things  thrown  at  him ;  and  Bob  was  under  the  de- 
lusion that  every  ball  was  aimed  at  him  alone.  He 
couldn't  understand. 

So  for  the  rest  of  this  fight  he  must  be  content  not 
to  understand,  and  to  play  but  a  minor  part. 

The  South  Beauforters,  now  having  in  mind  no 
more  worlds  to  conquer,  decided  to  return  to  their 
haunts.  Laughing  and  swearing,  they  started  to 


176  Beaufort  Chums 

tramp  up  the  road ;  and  freest  of  all  in  mouth  and 
actions  was  Big  Mike,  twitching  behind  him  the  un- 
willing clipper  sled. 

From  the  alley  the  three  boys  delivered  a  round 
of  snowballs  as  a  token  that  the  combat  was  on  once 
more. 

"  Head  'em  off!  Cut  through  the  yards  !  "  cried 
Ned ;  over  fences  and  through  the  yards  scurried  the 
boys,  and  came  out  at  the  front  of  the  retreating 
foe. 

"  Give  'em  '  soakers ' ! "  urged  Hal,  squeezing  a 
snowball  between  his  knees. 

"  Soakers,"  as  the  name  shows,  are  snowballs  which 
have  been  soaked  and  wrung  out,  so  to  speak.  They 
are  heavy,  and  hard,  and  when  they  hit,  hurt. 

They  are  not  lawful  snowballs,  but  in  a  warfare  of 
this  kind  they  prove  very  useful. 

By  this  time  other  boys  had  put  away  their  bobs 
and  sleds,  also,  and  had  hastened  to  wage  battle.  By 
this  time,  moreover,  comrades  far  and  wide  were 
getting  the  news,  and  dropping  chore  and  game 
were  rallying  to  the  scene. 

Through  yards,  around  corners,  they  sped ;  in  am- 
bush behind  tree-box  and  fence  they  waited;  into 
the  ranks  of  the  South  Beauforters  rained  the 
missiles. 

"  Soakers "  was  the  watchword — and  with  the 
slush  so  handy  there  was  no  danger  of  ammunition 
running  out. 

On  a  small  scale  it  was  like  that  memorable  re- 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  177 

treat  of  the  British  from  Concord  to  Lexington. 
The  South  Beauforters  were  the  British,  and  the 
others  were  the  minutemen. 

Big  Mike  and  his  gang  tried  to  reply  to  the  con- 
stant fire ;  one  of  their  balls,  thrown  by  Slim  Conner, 
took  Tom  square  on  the  nose  as  he  incautiously 
poked  his  head  above  the  fence.  A  yell  of  triumph 
arose  from  Slim  and  Co. 

"  Great  Scott !  "  appealed  Tom,  ducking  hastily,  and 
touching  his  finger-tips  gingerly  to  the  wound. 

"  Let's  see,  Tom,"  said  Hal. 

Tom  uncovered  his  nose.  The  left  side  of  it  was 
skinned ! 

"  They're  putting  rocks  in  their  snowballs ! "  de- 
clared Ned.  "  Isn't  that  just  dirty  mean,  though  !  " 

Tom,  while  somewhat  disfigured,  was  by  no  means 
disabled,  and  now  and  then  feeling  of  his  nose,  con- 
tinued the  pursuit. 

Peppered  from  every  quarter,  the  South  Beaufort- 
ers began  to  waver,  and  showed  a  tendency  to  hop, 
skip  and  jump  along,  and  to  turn  corners  on  the 
double  quick.  Presently,  as  by  common  consent, 
all  broke  into  a  run,  and  the  retreat  became  a 
flight. 

The  "  soakers  "  were  waxing  altogether  too  deadly. 

Up  the  middle  of  the  street,  elbows  raised  to  pro- 
tect heads,  bolted  the  South  Beaufort  gang,  and  after 
them,  into  the  open,  scuttled  their  attackers,  whoop- 
ing like  Indians.  Even  Bob  mustered  courage  to 
wave  his  tail,  and  bark. 


178  Beaufort  Chums 

From  the  outset  the  three  boys,  and  Ned  in  par- 
ticular, had  selected  Big  Mike  as  their  especial  target. 
Had  "  soakers  "  been  bullets  they  would  have  landed 
him  long  before ;  but  the  most  they  had  done  was 
to  make  him  curse  them  heartily  when  some  tell- 
ing ball  reached  the  mark.  And  still  he  had  the 
clipper  in  tow. 

"  Drop  that  sled,  you  thief ! "  Ned  kept  calling, 
fiercely. 

"  Thief!     Robber !  "  chimed  in  Ned's  companions. 

Closer  the  attackers  drew  their  lines.  Matters 
looked  promising  for  a  general  fight.  The  boys' 
blood  was  up,  and  Ned  was  bound  to  get  that 
sled.  "  Soakers "  seemed  not  to  do  it,  and  there 
was  nothing  left  but  fists. 

At  this  crisis,  just  as  the  pursuers  were  closing  in 
on  the  pursued,  and  "  soakers  "  at  short  range  were 
on  the  point  of  giving  way,  unless  something  unex- 
pected occurred,  to  fisticuffs — then  the  unexpected 
did  occur ! 

Out  of  a  cross-street  whirled  an  empty  lumber 
wagon,  mounted  on  runners  and  whisked  behind 
two  horses,  from  the  South  Beaufort  mills.  The 
South  Beauforters  hailed  it  as  sent  by  a  special 
providence. 

At  any  rate,  the  rescue  was  planned  exactly  right, 
and  in  nick  of  time. 

Just  as  the  bob  turned  into  their  path,  they  met  it. 
Without  causing  it  to  slacken  its  speed,  and  without 
themselves  slackening,  into  the  high  box  they  turn- 


The  Routing  of  Big  Mike  179 

bled,  Patsy,  and  the  Conners,  and  Red  Sullivan,  and 
all — all  except  Big  Mike  ! 

Gleefully  looking  behind,  to  place  thumb  on  nose 
and  wiggle  his  fingers  at  Ned  and  crowd,  he  proved 
his  own  undoing.  He  slipped,  and  sprawled — and 
away  without  him  was  borne  his  gang,  with  the 
driver,  a  South  Beauforter,  laying  lash  on  steeds. 

But  Big  Mike  did  not  sprawl  long.  Like  a  cat 
he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  dropping  the  clipper 
now  sought  only  to  save  himself  from  his  de- 
serts. 

Ned,  who  was  fleeter  than  the  others,  was  the 
nearest  to  him.  On  clumped  Big  Mike,  spurred  by 
fear,  in  the  trail  of  the  faithless  bob.  After  him 
struggled  Ned,  spurred  by  wrath  and  only  a  few 
yards  from  his  heels.  Behind  them  strung  out  the 
other  pursuers. 

Of  the  two,  hare  and  hound,  the  latter,  Ned,  be- 
cause he  had  been  scaling  so  many  fences  and  mak- 
ing so  many  circuits,  was  the  more  exhausted. 
However,  he  grimly  hung  on,  and  at  the  last 
Fortune  rewarded  him. 

The  first  limits  of  South  Beaufort  had  been 
reached ;  Big  Mike  was  on  familiar  ground.  The 
hare  had  been  run  to  its  hole.  With  a  sudden 
movement  Big  Mike  changed  his  course  at  right 
angles,  and  darted  for  a  friendly  alley. 

Ned  dug  his  heel  into  the  slush,  and  drew  back  his 
arm,  at  the  same  time.  Awaiting  opportunity,  dur- 
ing all  the  chase  he  had  been  carrying  a  pet "  soaker." 


180  Beaufort  Chums 

It  had  grown  harder  and  harder,  and  now  opportunity 
bade  "  Ready ! "  Just  as  Big  Mike,  presenting  the 
broadside  of  his  face,  entered  the  alley,  Ned,  without 
halting,  sped  his  snowball.  The  "  soaker,"  whizzing 
like  a  grape-shot,  burst  with  an  icy  "  smack  "  on  Big 
Mike's  ear ! 

"  Ow-w-w-w  !  "  screeched  Big  Mike,  the  last  bit  of 
spunk  taken  out  of  him  by  that  sudden  blow. 

Ned,  puffing,  turned  and  rejoined  his  comrades,  to 
receive  congratulations — and  his  clipper. 

The  next  Monday  it  was  rumored  at  school,  on 
good  authority,  that  Big  Mike  had  an  ear  on  him 
looking  like  an  over-ripe  pear.  Ned,  hearing,  was 
pleased.  He  felt  that  his  black  eye  had  been 
avenged. 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  LONG  SKATE 

LIKE  the  ill  wind  that  nevertheless  blows  some 
good,  the  thaw,  although  spoiling  the  coast- 
ing, opened  the  way  for  two  weeks  of  the 
finest  skating  that  Beaufort  had  ever  known.     The 
snow  had  become  water,  but  the  water  now  became 
ice. 

For  in  the  north  Winter  heard  how  his  sovereignty 
was  thus  being  intruded  upon  by  an  o'er-anxious 
Spring,  and  in  haste  dispatched  to  the  scene  General 
Bitter-Cold.  With  his  force  General  Bitter-Cold  ar- 
rived, amid  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  late  one  night. 
So  well  did  he  work  that  by  morning  Beaufort  and 
the  country  round-about  was  Winter's  again. 

He  sealed  each  pond  and  stream  with  the  seal  of 
empire,  and  then  proceeded  to  fetter  anew  the  mighty 
river. 

Beaufort  had  a  system  of  weather  flags ;  and  when, 
for  some  hours  preceding  General  Bitter-Cold's  ar- 
rival, the  cold-wave  signal  was  flown  from  the  staff 
upon  the  town  hall  cupola,  it  was  received  by  Ned 
and  his  cronies,  save  Bob,  with  much  delight.  Bob, 
being  rather  thin-skinned,  much  preferred  spring,  no 
matter  how  early  it  might  come. 

181 


182  Beaufort  Chums 

But  with  no  snow  left,  and  with  the  streets  mud  and 
water,  Ned  decided  that  almost  anything  would  be 
welcome. 

"  The  paper  says  that  the  temperature  will  fall 
forty  degrees  by  morning,"  announced  Mr.  Miller,  at 
supper. 

"  Won't  that  be  fine,  though !  "  asserted  Ned. 

"  It  won't  be  very  fine  for  the  poor  people,  how- 
ever," suggested  Mrs.  Miller. 

Ned  tried  to  look  solemn,  but  the  picture  of  the 
skating  quite  blotted  out  that  of  the  poor. 

That  night,  as  he  sunk  his  cheek  into  his  pillow, 
about  to  go  to  sleep,  he  heard  old  Boreas  sound  a 
fanfare  down  the  flue ;  and  he  chuckled  and  blissfully 
cuddled  into  a  ball. 

In  the  barn  loft  Bob,  at  the  end  of  his  burrow  amid 
the  hay,  raised  his  head  for  a  moment,  inquiringly ; 
then,  with  a  shiver  instead  of  a  chuckle,  he,  also,  cud- 
dled closer. 

The  next  morning  Ned  was  detailed  to  sprinkle 
ashes  and  sawdust  upon  the  various  walks  and  paths 
belonging  to  the  premises,  so  that  the  other  members 
of  the  household  might  venture  out  with  safety.  For 
himself  he  left  a  narrow  strip,  leading  from  back  stoop 
to  barn,  unsprinkled  ;  it  was  his  private  slide,  and  was 
a  constant  peril  to  other  back-yard  visitors,  notably 
Maggie  and  Bob. 

There  was  now  excellent  skating  on  the  flats,  where 
several  large  ponds  had  been  formed  and  had  readily 
frozen  over.  But  the  river  yielded  more  slowly. 


The  Long  Skate  183 

However,  the  zero  weather  was  genuine,  and  had 
come  to  stay  a  while.  Grimly  General  Bitter-Cold 
did  his  work,  day  by  day  and  night  by  night  building 
from  either  bank  out  toward  midstream,  until  finally 
a  juncture  had  been  made  and  over  the  channel  itself 
had  been  spread  a  crust  of  crystal. 

So  quickly  this  crust  deepened  and  toughened, 
that  soon  an  ice  bridge  had  been  staked  out,  and 
teams  were  crossing  from  shore  to  shore. 

The  work  of  freezing  had  been  done  very  quietly. 
On  this  account  the  Mississippi  was  now  like  glass. 
All  Beaufort  went  skating.  The  field  was  unlimited, 
save  as  in  the  swiftest  parts  of  the  current  the  water 
continued  to  show,  sullen  and  black. 

"  We're  going  to  skate  down  to  Newton  next 
Saturday,"  declared  Ned,  confidently. 

"  It's  good  of  you  to  tell  us,"  remarked  his  father, 
mildly. 

Ned  was  puzzled.  He  was  not  exactly  sure  what 
the  tone  of  voice  meant. 

"  Well,  can't  I  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  That  is  a  problem,"  replied  his  father,  bent  upon 
teasing.  "  But  I  should  think  that  a  boy  who  not 
an  hour  ago  declared  himself  unequal  to  the  task  of 
filling  up  two  coal  stoves  might  find  considerable  dif- 
ficulty." 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !  "  pouted  Ned,  the  hit  telling.  "  I 
mean,  may  I  ?  " 

"  Just  as  your  mother  says,"  answered  his  father. 
"  We'll  leave  it  to  her." 


184  Beaufort  Chums 

Ned's  face  did  not  express  any  great  joy  over  this 
condition  upon  his  going.  He  knew  so  well  what  an 
amount  of  convincing  his  mother,  always  timid,  win- 
ter or  summer,  about  the  river,  would  take.  Never- 
theless, he  went  boldly  at  his  task. 

"  May  I,  mother  ?  "  he  appealed  to  Mrs.  Miller, 
who  had  been  listening  with  a  smile  on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  Neddie !  I  don't  believe  the  ice  is  safe !"  she 
said. 

"  Pooh  !  "  scoffed  Ned.  "  It's  more  than  two  feet 
thick,  right  in  the  channel.  You  just  ought  to  see 
the  big  chunks  they're  cutting  out  for  next  sum- 
mer." 

"  But  Newton's  so  far,"  objected  his  mother.  "  You 
wouldn't  get  back  until  long  after  dark." 

"  Why,  mother  !  "  exclaimed  Ned,  quite  out  of  pa- 
tience. "  It's  only  fourteen  miles  and  we  can  skate 
that  in  an  hour  and  a  half  easy." 

"  I'm  so  afraid  you'll  run  into  an  air-hole,  or  some- 
thing, Neddie,"  pleaded  his  mother,  unwilling  to  pull 
down  her  flag. 

"  There  isn't  a  bit  of  danger,"  assured  Ned,  eagerly. 
"  Lots  of  the  fellows  have  been  down  and  back,  and 
there's  a  regular  path." 

"  Who,  for  instance  ? "  suddenly  chipped  in  his 
father.  " <  Lots  of  fellows,'  I  find,  is  sometimes 
rather  indefinite." 

"Lou  Ravens  and  'Duke'  Burke  did  it  just  the 
other  afternoon,"  promptly  responded  Ned. 

"  Still,  since  they  are  not  centipedes  it  takes  more 


The  Long  Skate  185 

than  two  boys  to  make  a  path,  you  know,  Ned,"  said 
his  father,  drily. 

"  But  we  could  follow  their  skate  marks — really  we 
could,  father,"  cried  Ned.  "  May  I  go,  mother  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  say,  Will  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Miller,  seek- 
ing refuge  in  her  husband. 

"  Now  that  isn't  fair,"  cried  Ned.  "  Father  said 
he'd  leave  it  to  you.  May  I  ?  It's  just  as  safe  as  our 
back  yard." 

"  You'll  be  very,  very  careful,  and  watch  out  for 
air-holes  ?  "  asked  his  mother. 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  promised  Ned. 

"  And  be  home  before  dark  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  And  not  take  any  risks  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am." 

Mrs.  Miller  looked  doubtfully  at  her  husband. 
Ned  foresaw  surrender,  and  with  a  hug  and  a  kiss  he 
won  her  over. 

"  Then  I  may  !  May  I  ?  I  may — may  I  ?  Mother, 
you're  just  as  good  as  you  can  be !  And  if  you'll 
give  me  a  quarter  I  can  get  some  oyster  soup  at 
Newton.  Hal  and  Tom  will.  You  see,  we  ought  to 
have  something  warm,  and  oyster  soup  is  dandy 
when  a  fellow's  empty." 

"  Ask  your  father,"  bade  his  mother,  roguishly. 
"  I've  furnished  the  permission,  and  he'll  have  to 
furnish  the  quarter." 

And  it  seemed  to  Ned  that  his  mother  had  come 
out  rather  ahead,  in  the  bargain. 


i86  Beaufort  Chums 

It  was  not  such  a  tremendously  long  skate  upon 
which  the  boys  started  Saturday  morning.  In  a 
straight  line  it  would  be  only  twelve  miles,  but  by 
the  bending  river,  and  by  the  extra  strokes  that  they 
would  make  in  picking  out  the  best  patches  of  ice, 
it  would  be  nearer  fifteen.  So  down  and  back,  it 
must  be  figured  as  thirty  miles — only,  the  "  back " 
was  to  seem  twenty  times  longer  than  the  "  down  " ! 

Hal  called  for  Ned,  and  together  they  made  for 
the  levee,  where  they  were  to  meet  Tom.  Ned 
thought  that  he  had  done  the  feat  of  slipping  off 
without  Bob's  seeing  him.  Bob  was  a  very  able  dog, 
in  the  water ;  but  on  the  water  he  was  of  very  little 
use  whatsoever.  If  in  a  boat,  he  became  seasick  ; 
and  if  on  ice,  he  slipped  and  slid. 

When  the  boys  arrived  at  the  levee  they  found 
there  not  only  Tom  but  also  Zu-zu  and  a  girl  friend 
of  hers. 

"  Why,  you  aren't  going,  are  you,  Zu-zu  ?  "  asked 
Ned,  in  surprise. 

«  No — but  I  would  if  mamma'd  let  me,"  replied 
Zu-zu,  tossing  her  head.  "  I  could  skate  that  far  as 
easy  as  not." 

"  I  bet  you  couldn't,"  said  Hal. 

"  I  could,  too,"  insisted  Zu-zu.  "  You  needn't  think 
that  just  because  we're  girls  we  can't  do  anything." 

"  What  made  you  bring  Bob  ?  "  queried  Tom. 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Ned. 

Yet,  at  the  moment  Bob  came  sidling  up  from  be- 
hind; grinning,  begging  pardon,  hopeful  that  he 


The  Long  Skate  187 

would  be  forgiven  and  taken.  It  was  very,  very 
rarely  that  he  stole  such  a  march  upon  his  master, 
for  when  he  wasn't  wanted  he  usually  had  strength 
of  mind  enough  to  stay  away.  But  to-day  had  en- 
tered into  his  head  the  idea  that,  willy-nilly,  he 
would  make  one  of  the  party  ;  and  keeping  out  of 
sight  he  had  slyly  sneaked  along  upon  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street  from  the  two  boys,  until  farther 
dodging  had  been  impossible. 

"  Bob !  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  scolded  Ned. 
"  Aren't  you  'shamed  of  yourself !  " 

Bob  was.  He  hugged  the  snow,  and  with  his 
nervous  tail  confessed  his  hopes  and  fears. 

"  Go  home  !  "  thundered  Ned. 

Bob  flattened  himself  still  more,  willing  to  be 
whipped,  but  unwilling  to  go  home. 

"  Oh,  Ned,  don't  hurt  him,"  begged  Zu-zu. 
"  We'll  take  him  back,  won't  we,  Bess  ?  Poor 
Bobbie ! " 

"  All  right,"  responded  Ned.  "  Only,  he's  a  bad 
dog,  just  the  same.  He  knew  he'd  no  business  to 
come." 

Zu-zu  gave  Bob  a  friendly  little  pat. 

"  You'd  like  to  go,  the  same  as  us,  wouldn't  you, 
Bob  ? "  she  said.  "  And  we  would  go,  too,  if  we 
were  only  boys." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  be  a  boy,"  asserted  Bessie. 

"  I  would,"  averred  Zu-zu. 

Bob  said  nothing  upon  the  subject.  As  a  rule,  he 
was  quite  satisfied  with  being  a  dog.  Zu-zu's  touch 


i88  Beaufort  Chums 

and  voice,  and  the  fact  that  the  threshing  did  not  de- 
scend, filled  him  with  sudden  energy.  Up  he  sprang, 
thinking  the  crisis  over ;  bounding  and  barking  he 
rejoiced  mightily,  and  bade  his  master  rejoice  with 
him.  But  on  the  contrary  Ned  paid  him  not  the 
slightest  attention.  Bob  was  a  dog  in  disgrace. 

Off  the  six  went,  the  girls  proudly  keeping  abreast 
just  to  show  what  they  could  do,  and  Bob  clawing 
behind,  trying  to  prove  that  he  was  as  good  as  any 
one  on  the  ice,  but  nevertheless  making  poor  work 
of  it  when  it  came  to  turning  corners. 

They  passed  the  Diamond  Jo  warehouse,  and 
Commodore  Jones'  "  boats-to-hire "  establishment, 
where  wintered  under  cover  the  scull-boat ;  and  still 
skirting  the  shore  sped  under  the  bridge,  between 
the  first  pier  and  the  high  stone  base. 

Here  the  girls  must  stop. 

Here  Bob  must  stop. 

"  Mother  said  this  was  as  far  as  you  could  go, 
Zu-zu,"  reminded  Tom. 

"  Bob,  go  home !  "  ordered  Ned. 

"  Come  on,  Bob,"  cried  Zu-zu. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  the  boys,  gliding  on. 

Bob  was  astounded,  disappointed,  hurt.  He  had 
not  been  taken.  All  his  apologies  had  been  for 
nothing.  He  was  to  be  left  with  the  girls  ! 

He  stood  stock  still,  as  if  stunned,  watching 
the  receding  figures  of  the  three  boys.  Then  he 
lifted  his  nose,  and  voiced  his  feelings  in  a  piercing 
howl. 


The  Long  Skate  189 

"  Good-bye,"  again  called  Ned,  turning  and  waving 
his  hand. 

"  Good-bye,  Ned,"  called  Zu-zu,  waving  back  at 
him. 

"  Wow-ow-ow-ow-u-u-u-u  !  "  lamented  Bob. 

"  When  a  dog  howls  it  means  somebody's  going 
to  die,"  croaked  Hal. 

"  Well,  I  guess  it's  none  of  us,  anyway,"  spoke 
Ned,  quickly. 

"  How  do  you  know  ? "  argued  Hal.  "  Maybe 
we'll  skate  into  a  hole." 

"  Oh,  pish  !  "  said  Tom.     «  Shut  up." 

"  Wow-ow-ow-ow-u-u-u-u  ! "  still  mourned  Bob. 

"Yes,  I  know;  it's  a  shame,  Bob,"  said  Zu-zu, 
patting  him.  "  We  could  go  just  as  well  as  they, 
couldn't  we  ?  Only  they're  boys,  and  we  aren't." 

Bob  never  gave  her  a  glance.  He  turned  his  back 
on  her,  and  looking  neither  to  one  side  nor  the  other, 
with  his  tail  curved  downward  and  inward  he  climbed 
the  bank,  and  headed  for  home. 

"  He's  disgusted.  Come  on,  Bess,"  laughed  Zu-zu. 
So  they  skated  up  to  the  levee  again. 

The  morning  was  glorious,  with  the  sunbeams 
glistening  over  the  ice,  and  the  air  full  of  little 
crystals.  The  river  stretched  broad  and  flat ;  here 
and  there  a  hummock,  and  here  and  there  a  change 
from  dark  to  light  or  from  light  to  dark. 

The  steady  rasp  of  the  saws  in  the  ice  fields 
mingled  with  the  angry  shriek  of  the  circular  steam 
saws  in  the  lumber-mills.  All  sounds  were  carried 


igo  Beaufort  Chums 

far,  through  this  crisp  atmosphere,  over  the  level 
plain  where  once  had  been  rippling  water. 

The  boys  felt  like  Mercuries,  with  winged  heels, 
so  swiftly  their  skate-blades  bore  them  onward.  Be- 
fore they  had  uttered  another  word  they  were  at  the 
head  of  Eagle  Island.  Here  they  had  the  choice  of 
taking  Paper-mill  Slough,  or  continuing  upon  the 
river  proper. 

"  Let's  go  outside  the  island,"  suggested  Ned. 
"  They  say  the  water  that  comes  from  the  paper-mill 
is  so  warm  it  eats  away  the  ice,  and  that  the  slough's 
chuck-full  of  air-holes." 

Ned's  picture  was  enough  to  remove  any  question 
as  to  routes,  and  down  along  the  outside  of  the 
island  they  dashed,  their  skates  clinking  a  merry 
tune. 

At  first  they  followed,  as  Ned  had  assured  his 
father  they  could,  a  "  regular  path,"  made  by  the 
skate-blades  of  numerous  others.  They  met  nobody 
save  three  or  four  Hollanders  from  the  island  settle- 
ment ;  odd-looking  people  on  wooden  skates,  bound, 
with  easy,  graceful  motion,  for  town. 

The  tracks  dwindled  and  dwindled,  and  presently 
there  were  none  at  all.  Not  a  person  was  in  sight. 
Before  the  three  lay  the  vast  expanse  of  ice,  waiting 
to  be  explored. 

What  had  become  of  those  reputed  marks  of  Lou 
Ravens  and  "  Duke "  Burke,  the  frozen  river  said 
not,  and  the  boys  spent  no  time  in  searching. 

Stillness     reigned,    broken    only    by    the    wood 


The  Long  Skate  191 

chopper's  ax  echoing  from  the  island,  the  cawing 
of  the  black  crows  crossing  overhead,  the  metallic 
rhythm  of  the  skate-blades,  and  the  rumbling  groans 
of  the  ice  as  it  cracked  for  miles  under  the  grip  of 
the  cold. 

«  My — isn't  this  fine  !  "  cried  Hal,  spurting  to  re- 
lieve his  spirits. 

"  I  should  say  so ! "  agreed  both  his  comrades, 
spurting  also. 

For  a  quarter  of  a  mile  they  fairly  flew. 

In  spots  the  ice  was  so  smooth  that  they  flitted 
over  it  with  a  velvety,  rocking  sensation ;  in  others 
it  was  of  coarser  grain,  through  which  their  steel 
"  zipped  "  only  slightly  less  easily.  In  others  it  was 
rough  enough  to  make  the  blades  clatter. 

But  all  the  time  the  trees  and  bushes  of  the  shore 
spun  by  as  when  viewed  from  the  windows  of  a  rail- 
road train. 

Now  the  ice  was  black  and  clear  so  that  in  shoal 
spots  one  could  descry  the  sand  beneath.  Now  it 
was  dense  and  milky.  To  glide  suddenly  from  the 
white  ice  upon  the  black  was  apt  to  give  one  a  shock, 
for  the  black  looked  like  water. 

Zigzagging  upon  their  course,  trying  to  select  the 
better  ice,  and  ever  keeping  their  eyes  fixed  before 
them  in  order  to  avoid  air-holes,  the  boys,  at  times 
in  close  file  and  at  times  considerably  separated,  skated 
at  full  speed. 

Gradually  they  cut  away  from  the  island  side,  and 
when  they  had  reached  the  foot  of  Eagle  they  were 


192  Beaufort  Chums 

far  out,  toward  the  shore  of  the  mainland,  opposite. 
Such  a  thing  as  slackening  to  rest  never  occurred  to 
them.  The  miles  fell  behind  with  no  effort ;  in  fact, 
the  pace  was  so  blissful  that  the  boys  hardly  cared  to 
break  the  charm  by  talking,  and  only  risked  an  oc- 
casional, "  Isn't  this  bully,  though ! "  when  they 
skimmed  across  a  particularly  glossy  patch. 

With  the  island  out  of  the  road,  here  the  river  was 
again  a  mile  wide — a  vast  sheet  of  ice,  with  a  few 
narrow  strips  of  sparkling  blue  which  denoted  areas 
that  never  froze  over. 

The  shore  line  bent  inward,  slightly,  and  looking 
down  the  mighty  curve  the  boys  could  already  see 
Newton,  the  clustered  houses  forming  the  back- 
ground to  a  sandy  sprit. 

"  I'll  stump  you  not  to  stop  once  till  we  get  there," 
challenged  Hal  to  his  companions. 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Tom.  "  I  could  keep  this  up 
all  day." 

"  So  could  I,"  asserted  Ned,  although  his  ankle, 
not  so  strong  as  it  was  before  the  sprain,  protested 
that  it  couldn't. 

Ned  ought  to  have  supported  it  by  a  strap  ;  but  he 
claimed  that  only  girls  and  molly-coddles  wore 
straps. 

Aiming  straight  for  the  village  spire  the  three 
dashed  on  as  though  they  were  dispatch  bearers. 
"  Clink,  clink,  clink,"  and  the  yellow  dunes  of  the 
shore  danced  past,  and  Newton  steadily  drew 
nearer. 


The  Long  Skate  193 

A  last  glorious  burst  of  speed,  to  prove  how  fresh 
they  were,  and  up  to  the  Newton  levee,  fringed  with 
skaters,  they  dashed.  Panting,  running  perspiration, 
with  a  flourish  and  a  scrape  they  halted. 

"  There  !  "  they  congratulated  themselves,  all  to- 
gether. 

Thus  they  might  go  back  home,  and  boast  that 
they  had  come  those  miles  without  a  stop — for 
although  Tom  had  caught  his  toe  in  a  crack  and  had 
pitched  headlong,  even  while  sliding  the  fastest  he 
had  regained  his  feet  and  continued  his  way. 

They  took  off  their  skates,  and  went  up  town. 
As  they  climbed  the  levee  their  feet  felt  very  flat 
and  awkward,  as  is  only  natural  when  one  has 
changed  from  flying  to  walking.  Ned's  ankle  pained 
him  like  sixty,  but  he  minded  it  not. 

There  was  not  much  to  see  in  Newton.  It  had 
only  the  single  business  street.  However,  they 
sauntered  here  and  there  for  an  hour,  feeling  like 
distinguished  visitors. 

"  Let's  eat,"  at  length  spoke  Ned. 

His  proposal  was  instantly  adopted.  They  re- 
called a  sign  which  stated  "  Oysters  in  All  Styles  " ; 
and  presently  they  had  clumped  into  a  little  back 
room,  and  seated  about  a  small  round  table  were 
waiting  impatiently  for  "  three  stews." 

"  Say — but  this  tastes  good  !  "  sighed  Ned,  when 
they  had  drawn  up  their  chairs,  and  the  first  spoon- 
fuls had  gone  down. 

"  Um-m-m-m-m  !  "  mumbled  his  two  companions. 


Beaufort  Chums 

The  stews  disappeared ;  also,  disappeared  crackers 
and  butter  and  pickles  and  celery.  None  of  the  boys 
ate  pickles  at  home,  but  everything  tastes  good  after 
a  fifteen  mile  skate  ! 

They  pushed  back  their  chairs,  and  sat  a  moment 
in  silent  contentment. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  say  to  starting  ? "  yawned 
Hal,  whom  the  warm  soup  and  the  close  room  were 
making  sleepy.  "  Then  we  can  take  it  easy." 

So  they  arose,  and  stiffly  passed  out. 

"  You  boys  come  down  from  Beaufort,  didn't  ye  ?  " 
inquired  the  storekeeper,  as  each,  with  'the  air  of  a 
millionaire,  planked  his  quarter  down  upon  the  glass 
cigar-case  near  the  street  door. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  Tom  and  Ned  together. 

"  Wa-al,  if  you're  calculatin'  on  skatin'  back  I'd  ad- 
vise ye  to  be  settin'  off,"  drawled  the  storekeeper. 
"  It's  gettin'  ready  fer  a  big  storm." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  storm  right  away  ?  "  asked 
Hal,  anxiously. 

"  Can't  say ;  but  she's  a  comin',  all  right  enough," 
assured  the  storekeeper. 

As  soon  as  they  were  in  the  open  air  the  boys 
could  perceive  a  great  change  in  the  atmosphere.  The 
sun  no  longer  shone.  Everything  was  gray,  and  the 
wind  was  wailing. 

It  blew  full  from  the  north.  When  they  had  left 
the  levee,  and  were  headed  for  home,  it  was  exactly 
in  their  teeth. 

It  was  a  gusty,  mean  wind ;  sweeping  upon  them, 


The  Long  Skate  195 

with  naught  to  interrupt  it  for  miles  and  miles  of  ice, 
it  at  times  almost  took  them  off  their  feet. 

With  heads  down,  and  coats  closely  buttoned,  they 
stanchly  pushed  on. 

Very  different  was  this  from  the  trip  out. 

"  Whew !  "  gasped  Tom,  when  they  paused,  after 
having  covered  about  a  mile. 

"  We'll  do  like  the  geese,  when  they  fly,"  proposed 
Ned.  "  I'll  go  first  for  fifteen  minutes,  and  break  the 
wind,  and  then  you  fellows  can  take  your  turns." 

They  started,  this  time  in  single  file,  with  Ned 
leading,  and  Tom  next  and  Hal  at  the  rear,  all  taking 
short,  choppy  strokes  together.  At  the  end  of  fif- 
teen minutes,  according  to  Hal's  watch — which  his 
father  had  given  him  instead  of  a  gun — Ned  dropped 
back  and  Tom  came  to  the  front.  Hal  succeeded  to 
Tom,  until  it  was  Ned's  turn  again. 

This  plan  worked  very  well ;  in  the  unity  of  action, 
the  regular,  unvarying  stroke  for  stroke,  was  a  certain 
force  that  carried  them  forward  famously. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  and  a  half  Hal  suddenly 
called,  from  his  place  at  the  rear : 

"  Oh,  fellows,  stop  a  minute." 

Tom  and  Ned  looked  behind.  There  was  Hal, 
lying  flat  on  the  ice ! 

"  I've  got  to  rest,"  he  explained,  as  the  wind 
drifted  them  back  upon  him.  Evidently  he  was  the 
weak  one  in  the  party. 

"  Get  up,"  commanded  Ned.  "  You'll  get  all 
stiff." 


196  Beaufort  Chums 

"  I  should  say !  You'll  feel  worse  than  you  did 
before,"  chimed  in  Tom. 

But  Hal  only  lay  and  puffed. 

"  It's  snowing !  "  exclaimed  Ned.  "  Come  on,  Hal ; 
we've  got  to  get  home." 

Hard  particles  of  snow  were  rushing  with  the  wind, 
cutting  through  the  air  and  scudding  along  over  the 
ice. 

Hal  clambered  to  his  feet,  and  the  three  lamely 
started  again.  The  stop  had  stiffened  not  only  Hal, 
but  also  the  other  two,  and  it  required  some  effort  to 
limber  up  once  more. 

The  snow  increased,  coming  in  blinding  squalls. 
The  wind  was  keen  and  raw.  The  boys  kept  on  as 
before,  now  swinging  their  arms,  now  skating  with 
arms  behind  the  back,  and  in  other  ways  trying  to 
ease  their  labor  by  variety,  until  soon  they  were  ap- 
pealed to  by  Hal  to  stop  again. 

"  You  needn't  lead  any  more,  Hal,"  said  Ned. 
"  Need  he,  Tom  ?  We  can  break  the  wind,  and  he 
can  keep  behind." 

"  Of  course,"  agreed  Tom,  stoutly. 

But  even  then  poor  Hal  needed  frequent  halts ;  he 
was  doing  his  best,  only  his  best  was  not  so  good  as 
the  best  of  the  two  others.  Tom,  also,  began  to  be 
in  distress.  As  for  Ned,  his  weak  ankle  burned  like 
fire. 

The  snow  grew  thicker,  whirling  out  of  the  north, 
and  with  a  wall  of  white  resisting  their  advance.  The 
ice  was  covered,  so  that  their  skate  blades  threw  up 


The  Long  Skate  197 

little  furrows.  Now  black  ice  and  milk  ice,  rough 
and  smooth,  looked  alike,  and  over  the  air-holes  was 
spread  a  treacherous  curtain. 

"  Come  on,  Hal !     Don't  lie  down  !  "  urged  Ned. 

"  I  can't.  I'm  tuckered ! "  gasped  Hal.  "  You 
fellows  go  ahead,  and  let  me  freeze." 

"  No,  we  won't  do  any  such  thing,"  declared  Ned. 
"  I  tell  you — we'll  land  on  Eagle  and  walk  up  it  as 
far  as  we  can.  Walking  will  be  a  change." 

Tom  said  nothing,  but  his  lips  were  white. 

The  foot  of  Eagle  was  still  over  a  mile  beyond ; 
how  far  they  did  not  know,  because  they  could  not 
see  the  shore  on  either  hand.  They  were  alone  in  a 
trackless  desert. 

"  You  must  come,  Hal,"  bade  Ned,  stooping  and 
raising  him.  "  Tom  and  I'll  push  you." 

"  No,  I'm  going  to  freeze.  That's  what  Bob's 
howling  meant !  "  moaned  Hal,  dismally. 

But  Ned  and  Tom  each  took  an  arm,  and  with 
him  between  them  valiantly  struggled  on.  And  it 
was  a  struggle,  with  Ned  doing  most  of  the  push- 
ing, and  Tom  having  hard  work  to  stand  up  for  him- 
self, and  Hal  a  dead  weight. 

After  they  had  floundered  on,  in  this  way,  with 
pauses  to  catch  breath,  for  seemingly  a  thousand 
miles,  the  wooded  end  of  Eagle  showed  darkly 
through  the  driving  storm. 

"  Hurrah.     There  it  is,  Hal !  "  cheered  Ned. 

His  ankle  had  ceased  to  pain  him ;  it  had  lapsed 
from  fire  to  an  icy  numbness.  Now  it  kept  turning 


198  Beaufort  Chums 

under  him  and  his  strokes  were  irregular  and  lacked 
force.  Tom,  still  thinking  that  he  was  helping  Hal, 
was  walking  on  his  skates,  rather  than  skating.  Ned 
was  the  only  one  who  talked.  Hal  was  heart-sick, 
and  Tom  was  one  of  those  chaps  who  simply  press 
their  lips  the  tighter,  and  plod  on  until  they  drop. 

Eagle  approached,  oh,  so  slowly.  Risking  the 
danger  of  possibly  thin  ice  close  in  shore,  Ned, 
pushing  Hal,  and  with  Tom  stubbornly  stumbling 
along  on  the  other  side,  strove  for  the  point. 

"  There !  "  breathed  Ned,  as  all  three  had  done 
before,  at  the  Newton  levee.  This  time,  however, 
he  was  the  only  one  to  say  it. 

They  flopped  down  among  the  brittle  bushes,  for  a 
rest.  It  seemed  good  to  be  on  land — bleak  as  the 
spot  was. 

Presently  Ned,  arousing  himself,  kicked  off  his 
skates,  and  while  Tom  was  fumbling  with  his,  re- 
moved those  of  the  passive  Hal,  also. 

Ned  stood  up.  Tom  stood  up.  Hal  tried,  and 
fell  back. 

"  Hal,  you  must !  "  again  ordered  Ned.  "  Don't 
be  a  baby ! " 

"  I'm  not  a  baby  ! "  sobbed  Hal,  stung  to  the  quick, 
and  staggering  to  his  feet. 

Tom  looked  on,  saying  nothing. 

Off  they  went.  As  they  warmed  to  their  work, 
they  found  that  walking  was  an  agreeable  change. 
The  wind  was  broken  by  the  trees,  and  although  it 
wailed  and  roared,  and  the  snow  sifted  in  their  faces, 


The  Long  Skate  199 

still  they  were  far  more  comfortable  than  they  had 
been  upon  the  river. 

Hal  pluckily  braced  up,  and  would  take  no  more 
help.  Tom  made  no  sign  either  way.  Ned  sang 
and  whistled  and  joked,  all  by  himself,  and  ever  one 
leg  from  the  knee  down  was  only  a  dead  weight. 
Sometimes  he  stole  a  glance  at  it  to  make  sure  that  it 
was  there. 

Eagle  Island  seemed  deserted.  In  all  their  long, 
dreary  march,  slipping,  tripping,  faint  with  hunger 
and  wet  with  snow  and  perspiration,  they  saw  not 
a  house,  nor  heard,  save  Ned's,  a  human  voice. 

When  they  reached  the  edge  of  the  woods,  they 
found  that  they  had  cut  across  the  island,  and  were 
at  the  Paper-mill  Slough. 

Here  Hal  broke  down  again. 

"  You  aren't  going  to  walk  the  slough,  are  you  ?  " 
he  whimpered,  seeing  that  Tom  and  Ned  were  hob- 
bling on,  without  swerving. 

"  Sure.  Why  not  ?  "  answered  Ned.  "  We  want 
to  get  home,  and  that's  the  quickest  way,  isn't 
it?" 

"  I'm  afraid.  The  slough's  all  full  of  air-holes  !  " 
faltered  Hal,  beginning  to  cry  afresh  from  weariness 
and  fear. 

"We'll  go  first,  Hal,"  comforted  Ned.  "You 
aren't  afraid  to  follow  in  our  tracks,  are  you  ?  See — 
Tom's  half  way  across  already." 

For  Tom  had  never  paused,  but  had  trudged  ahead 
like  a  machine. 


2oo  Beaufort  Chums 

"  N-no,"  said  Hal,  trying  to  be  brave,  and  not 
think  of  Bob's  howling. 

It  was  dark.  The  slough  was  ghostly,  and  the 
farther  shore  was  but  a  dim  line.  Here  and  there  a 
h'ght  glimmered ;  northward  were  more  lights,  and 
Beaufort. 

A  couple  of  miles,  and  they  would  be  home. 

Over  the  slough  stumped  Ned;  behind  him 
trailed  Hal,  sobbing  and  moaning,  but  coming 
on,  just  the  same.  It  was  no  use  for  them  to 
pick  their  way.  Air-hole  and  solid  crust  looked 
alike.  And  while  the  ice  cracked  under  them, 
sending  their  hearts  into  their  mouths,  and  the 
wind  lashed  them  and  the  snow  blinded  them, 
they  pushed  forward  and  arrived  in  safety  at  the 
mainland.  Tom  was  waiting  for  them,  like  a  statue. 

South  Beaufort  did  not  interfere  with  them  as  they 
toiled  through  it.  Big  Mike  and  the  Conners  and  all 
were  housed  from  the  blasts.  As  they  gained  their 
own  more  familiar  territory  Hal  blurted,  suddenly : 

"  I'm  sorry  I  was  scared,  fellows.  But  Bob 
howled  so  like  the  dickens  that  I  thought  some- 
thing was  going  to  happen." 

"  Oh,  pish  ! "  muttered  Tom — the  first  time  in 
hours  that  he  had  spoken  a  word. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Ned.  "  Hal  had  more  grit 
than  any  of  us,  because  he  came  ahead  even  though 
he  was  scared." 

Mrs.  Miller  was  half  frantic,  and  even  Mr.  Miller, 
sure  as  he  was  that  Ned  would  "  turn  up,"  was  get- 


The  Long  Skate  2O1 

ting  restive,  when  Ned  tramped  upon  the  front  porch 
and  in  through  the  welcoming  door. 

"  Oh,  Neddie !  "  cried  his  mother. 

"  Don't  scold  me.  I'm  so  tired ! "  pleaded  Ned, 
now  feeling  free  to  give  in. 

He  pitched  into  a  chair  before  the  sitting-room 
stove,  and  they  removed  his  cap  and  scarf  and  mit- 
tens, and  pulled  off  his  boots.  After  he  had  swal- 
lowed some  warm  supper,  and  had  stammered  his 
tale,  he  stumbled  to  bed ;  and  his  ankle  throbbed, 
throbbed,  throbbed,  through  all  the  night. 

The  next  day  he  was  on  crutches  again.  Hal  re- 
ported as  well  as  ever.  It  was  Tom,  the  silent, 
dogged  Tom,  who  fared  the  worst,  just  as  he  had 
said  the  least.  For  a  month  he  was  sick  from  the 
strain  and  the  exposure. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
AN  UNEXPECTED  BAG 

SPRING  came  early,  but  none  too  early  for  the 
majority  of  Beaufort  people.  In  particular, 
none  too  early  for  Ned,  whose  ankle  was 
proving  a  check  on  his  farther  winter  sports ;  and 
none  too  early  for  Tom,  to  whom  Christmas  had 
brought  a  gun  which  he  had  hardly  been  able  to  use 
even  on  rabbits ;  and  none  too  early  for  Bob,  who,  as 
has  been  said,  was  not  a  cold-weather  dog. 

With  the  advent  of  the  south  winds  and  the  steady 
dripping  thaw,  Ned's  ankle  and  Tom's  cough — keep- 
sakes from  that  memorable  Newton  trip — rapidly 
disappeared  ;  and  the  nearer  ventured  the  ducks,  the 
stronger  felt  the  two  boys.  Together — Tom  no 
longer  Ned's  squire,  but  now,  by  virtue  of  that 
Christmas  present,  become  his  brother-at-arms — 
they  haunted  the  levee,  watching  for  the  flight  to  set 
in  and  the  ice  to  go  out. 

Bob  accompanied  them.  But  he  was  not  espe- 
cially interested  in  ducks.  Dread  of  gun  forbade 
him  to  hunt  them,  alive ;  and  instinct  forbade  him  to 
gnaw  the  bones  of  them,  dead.  Summer  really  was 
Bob's  only  unclouded  season,  for  then  he  could  share 
in  all  Ned's  excursions.  Still,  even  a  dog  cannot  go 
through  life  without  trials. 

202 


An  Unexpected  Bag  203 

All  through  the  spring  vacation  that  ice  which  had 
made  such  good  skating  on  the  Mississippi  hung  and 
hung,  regardless  of  the  fact  that  its  mission  had  been 
fulfilled,  and  that  it  ought  to  leave  the  field  to  the 
hunters.  Meanwhile  the  wild  fowl  had  been  making 
use  of  the  Missouri  waterway  ;  and  when,  at  last,  the 
blockade  in  the  Mississippi  was  lifted,  and  in  the 
shape  of  enormous  floes  of  slush  swept  down  the 
channel,  mashing  against  the  piers  of  the  Beaufort 
bridge  and  piling  up  on  the  shores,  the  relief  was  too 
late. 

Most  of  the  ducks  had  passed  by,  on  another 
route,  and  Ned  and  Tom  had  killed  never  a 
one. 

Tom  was  disappointed  beyond  measure.  His  new 
gun  yearned  for  its  first  duck,  and  but  illy  submitted 
to  the  superior  blood-record  of  Ned's  gun.  Probably 
this  is  why,  in  its  mistaken  zeal,  it  brought  to  bag 
what  it  did. 

The  duck  crop  being  a  failure,  the  boys  had  to 
content  themselves  with  the  snipe  crop.  After  the 
ducks,  save  now  and  then  a  wood-duck  or  a  blue- 
winged  teal  which  had  decided  to  stay  all  summer, 
were  beyond  reach  of  even  a  thirteen-inch  cannon, 
not  to  speak  of  a  twelve  gauge  single-barrel,  jack 
snipe  and  plover  still  lingered  in  the  marshes  and 
along  the  edges  of  the  streams. 

It  was  the  second  Saturday  in  April,  and  Ned  and 
Tom  were  among  the  sloughs  across  the  river,  raking 
the  country  for  whatever  might  be  so  unlucky  as  to 


204  Beaufort  Chums 

offer  itself  as  an  acceptable  target.  The  withdrawal 
of  the  ice  from  the  Mississippi  had  given  release  to 
that  in  the  sloughs,  and  everything  was  springlike 
and  green  and  watery. 

Now  it  was  afternoon.  As  to  what  the  boys  had 
thus  far  secured,  the  less  said,  the  better.  Of  course, 
one  cannot  have  good  luck  on  every  trip.  But  there 
was  a  chance,  yet,  to  round  out  the  day  well,  had  not 
Tom's  gun,  impatient  and  unruly,  sailed  in  without 
waiting,  and  on  its  own  hook. 

The  slough  was  on  the  boys'  right.  They  were 
walking  single  file — Ned  carelessly  a  few  paces  ahead, 
or  Tom  carelessly  a  few  paces  behind,  just  as  critics 
choose — on  the  alert  for  game.  It  might  be  a  pair 
of  plover  winging  overhead,  or  a  jack  snipe  whisking 
from  under  their  feet,  or,  possibly,  a  belated  duck 
squawking  from  its  covert,  or — something  else. 

"  Boom ! "  And  Ned  was  on  his  knees,  and, 
astonished,  was  trying  not  to  fall  farther. 

It  had  happened  so  very  suddenly.  The  first  thing 
that  he  knew,  his  ears  had  been  deafened  by  a  tre- 
mendous crash,  and  at  the  same  instant  he  had  been 
struck  a  violent  blow  on  the  back,  and  thrown  for- 
ward. The  next  thing  that  he  knew,  he  was  totter- 
ing on  his  knees,  and  Tom  was  bending  over  him, 
wailing : 

"  I've  killed  him,  I've  killed  him  !  Oh,  dear,  what 
shall  I  do  !  " 

"  I  know  you  didn't  mean  to,  Tom,"  comforted 
Ned,  still  rather  hazy  as  to  just  what  had  taken  place. 


An  Unexpected  Bag  205 

"  Are  you  dying,  Ned  ?  Don't  die !  Oh,  don't 
die !  "  pleaded  Tom. 

Ned  examined  himself,  inwardly,  a  moment,  to  de- 
termine what  his  exact  state  might  be.  He  could 
place  no  pain ;  but  this  was  what  seemed  awful : 
that  he  might  be  dreadfully  wounded  somewhere, 
and  yet  not  know  it ! 

"Where  did  it  hit  me,  Tom?"  he  asked,  faintly, 
and  not  daring  to  stir. 

"  I  shot  your  shoulder  all  to  pieces  !  "  cried  Tom, 
wildly.  "  And  my  gun  wasn't  even  cocked  !  " 

Ned  fearfully  looked  over  at  his  left  shoulder.  He 
beheld  his  coat  at  that  spot  in  tatters,  and  his  whole 
left  sleeve  torn  so  that  it  hung  in  only  threads. 

With  such  havoc  made,  surely  there  ought  to  be 
pain ;  but  on  the  contrary  the  sole  sensation  was  a 
curious  numbness  in  his  left  side  and  extending  to 
his  left  elbow. 

He  wondered  if  it  could  be  true  that  he  was  about 
to  die.  He  found  himself  not  afraid,  although  it  was 
hard  to  die  away  off  there,  in  the  open  country,  be- 
side a  slough.  He  was  sorry  for  himself,  and  for  his 
father  and  mother,  and  for  Tom.  What  would  Bob 
think  ?  What  would  the  boys  and  girls  say  ?  Poor 
little  Zu-zu  would  cry  and  cry,  and  keep  his  duck 
wings  forever. 

"  Can  you  move  your  arm  ?  Try ! "  implored 
Tom. 

Ned  cautiously  tried,  and  found  that  he  could 
swing  his  arm  and  wiggle  his  ringers.  But  it  was  as 


206  Beaufort  Chums 

though  he  was  experimenting  with  the  arm  of  some- 
body else. 

Both  were  now  becoming  somewhat  more  hope- 
ful. Of  the  two,  Tom,  as  was  natural,  was  the  more 
excited  and  frightened,  because  upon  his  head  rested 
the  accident,  and  because  it  was  he  who  could  view 
the  full  extent  of  the  damage. 

Ned  could  only  imagine ;  Tom  could  both  see  and 
imagine. 

"  I  don't  believe  I'm  shot  so  bad,  after  all,"  mused 
Ned,  easing  himself  by  settling  back  upon  his  heels. 
"  It  doesn't  hurt  a  bit." 

"  But  you  are !  I'm  afraid  you  are ! "  moaned 
Tom,  pitifully.  "  And  it's  all  my  fault,  though  I 
don't  see  how  it  ever  happened." 

From  the  appearance  of  that  back  it  seemed  to 
Tom  that  the  whole  load  must  have  entered  Ned's 
shoulder. 

"  Isn't  any  one  in  sight  to  help  us  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

"  Not  a  soul,"  said  Tom,  with  a  quaver  of  despair 
in  his  voice.  "  Shall  I  fix  you  as  good  as  I  can,  and 
then  run  like  lightning  and  get  a  wagon,  or  some- 
thing ?  " 

"  I  bet  I  could  walk  as  far  as  the  road,"  asserted 
Ned,  pondering.  "  That  would  be  a  better  place  to 
leave  me,  for  people  are  more  apt  to  come  along 
there,  you  know." 

"  But  I  hate  to  have  you  walk,  Ned,"  said  Tom. 
"  It  might  not  be  right  for  you." 

Nevertheless  he  took  Ned's  hand  and  helped  him 


An  Unexpected  Bag  207 

get  on  his  feet — which  was  done  with  no  apparent 
harm. 

"  I  don't  need  to  be  held  up,"  objected  Ned,  as 
Tom  started  to  put  an  arm  around  his  waist,  and  lead 
him  off.  "  You  carry  the  guns.  You  weren't  going 
to  forget  them,  were  you  ?  " 

Tom  raised  Ned's  gun  from  the  spot  where  it  had 
dropped  when  Ned  himself  had  dropped,  and  then 
gave  his  own,  lying  where  he  had  flung  it,  a  kick. 

"  It  can  stay  here  and  rust,  for  all  of  me,"  he  de- 
clared. "  I'll  never  touch  it  again ;  never." 

"  Shucks,  you  will,  too,"  scolded  Ned.  "  Now  you 
pick  it  up." 

So  Tom  roughly  picked  it  up.  Together  the  two 
boys — the  injured  and  the  sound — slowly  walked 
across  the  field,  with  Tom  watching  Ned  askance,  as 
if  expecting  him  to  keel  over  at  any  instant. 

Ned,  however,  while  keeping  himself  well  in  hand, 
and  on  the  lookout  for  any  new  and  warning  symp- 
toms, did  not  feel  the  least  discomfort  from  the 
motion. 

His  shoulder  was  numb,  and  only  numb. 

To  reach  the  road  they  had  to  cross  a  railway 
track ;  and  as  they  neared  it  Tom  halted  and  cried, 
joyfully : 

"  Listen ! " 

A  clattering  rumble,  around  the  curve,  fell  upon 
their  ears. 

"  A  train — it's  a  train  !  "  cried  Tom.  "  You  stay 
here  and  I'll  go  ahead  and  stop  it." 


208  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Maybe  it  won't  stop,"  said  Ned. 

"  Yes,  it  will.  I'll  make  it,"  assured  Tom,  running 
forward.  "  They  wouldn't  go  on  and  leave  you  here 
to  die ! " 

Uncertain  as  to  how  he  would  do  it,  but  deter- 
mined to  stop  the  train  at  all  hazard,  Tom  flew  for 
the  track. 

Around  the  long  curve  swept  the  Pacific  Coast 
Limited,  due  in  Beaufort  at  3:21.  The  engineer, 
peering  ahead,  was  startled  to  see,  planted  between 
the  rails  in  the  rapidly  nearing  distance,  a  boy  with  a 
gun  in  each  hand,  threatening  the  advance  of  the 
train. 

The  engineer  opened  the  whistle  valve,  and  the 
engine  sounded  its  angry,  impatient  command :  "  Out 
of  the  way !  " 

Tom  saw  the  white  flare  of  steam,  and  a  second 
later  heard  the  quick  shriek  of  warning.  But  he 
never  budged.  He  only  waved  his  arms  and  guns. 

He  tried  to  make  the  engineer  know;  now  he 
flourished  the  guns,  and  now  he  patted  his  left  shoul- 
der, and  now  he  pointed  off  toward  Ned,  and  wept 
aloud  in  his  fear  that  he  was  not  being  understood. 

The  engineer  and  the  fireman  noted  the  gestures, 
and  saw  that  the  boy  stubbornly  stood  and  budged 
not. 

It  seemed  to  be  a  question  of  either  slowing  down 
or  running  over  him. 

To  Tom  it  was  a  question  of  either  saving  Ned  or 
being  run  over. 


An  Unexpected  Bag  209 

The  engineer's  hand  tightened  on  the  air-brake 
lever.  The  other  hand  grudgingly  jerked  the  throttle. 

Tom  saw  the  engine  still  closing  in  upon  him  at 
relentless  speed — and  he  only  gestured  the  more. 

Then,  on  a  sudden,  with  grinding  of  wheels,  and  a 
disgusted  wheeze,  the  train  stopped ;  the  pilot  of  the 
engine  just  touched  his  boot-legs. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  eh  ?  "  demanded  the 
engineer,  savagely,  leaning  out  of  his  window. 

"  A  boy's  been  shot !  He's  got  to  be  taken  to 
town  right  away,"  explained  Tom,  hastening  around 
beside  the  cab,  and  looking  up  at  the  grimy  face  far 
above  him. 

He  clutched  the  cab  steps  imploringly,  resolved 
that  the  train  should  not  start  without  him. 

The  fireman  had  jumped  to  the  cab  door  and  was 
listening. 

"  Well,  where  is  he  ?  "  demanded  the  engineer. 

"  There "  began  Tom,  but  he  was  interrupted 

by  a  brakeman,  who,  followed  by  the  conductor, 
came  running  up  from  the  foremost  coach. 

"  What's  the  matter  here  ?  "  asked  the  brakeman. 

"  A  boy's  shot,  and  you've  got  to  take  him  to 
Beaufort,"  announced  Tom,  again. 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  snapped  the  conductor,  now 
taking  hold  of  affairs. 

"  He's  coming.  All  right,  Ned,"  encouraged 
Tom,  beckoning  to  Ned,  who  was  walking  as  fast  as 
he  could,  through  the  field,  toward  them. 

"  That  him  ?  "  demanded  the  conductor,  shortly. 


2io  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Tom.     "  He's " 

"  Go  ahead,"  ordered  the  conductor,  turning  on  his 
heel,  to  the  engineer.  "  Young  man,  this  is  a  dan- 
gerous business  you're  in — stopping  limited  trains 
just  for  the  fun  of  it.  I've  a  mind  to  take  you  to 
town  and  turn  you  over  to  the  officers." 

He  glared  at  Tom,  and  the  brakeman  glared  at 
Tom,  and  the  fireman  and  engineer  glared  at  Tom, 
and  all  the  faces  stuck  out  of  the  windows  of  the  line 
of  coaches  glared  at  Tom. 

The  engineer  reached  for  the  throttle,  and  Tom 
reached  for  the  conductor's  coat-tail. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  true,  it's  true !  "  cried  Tom.  "  He  is 
shot.  I  shot  him  myself.  You  look  at  his  shoulder 
and  you'll  see.  Please  wait !  Please  wait,  just  a  sec- 
ond. If  it  isn't  so,  you  can  do  anything  to  me  you 
like.  See — how  his  left  sleeve  is  all  torn." 

"  Have  him  hurry  up,  then,"  said  the  conductor, 
moved  by  Tom's  appeal,  and  able  to  see  for  himself 
that  evidently  something  was  wrong  with  Ned. 

Tom  dropped  his  guns,  and  jumping  down  the 
slight  embankment  sped  to  Ned,  to  help  him  pass  a 
barbed  wire  fence,  and  climb  the  gravelly  slope. 

"  By  Jinks — the  boy  is  hurt !  "  observed  the  brake- 
man. 

The  conductor  tapped  with  his  foot  impatiently. 

"  At  any  rate,  he's  making  us  lose  lots  of  time,"  he 
remarked. 

"  All  aboard  !  "  he  called,  as  Tom  and  Ned  toiled  up 
to  the  track.  And  he  added,  kindly,  as  the  sight  of 


An  Unexpected  Bag  211 

Ned's  pale  face  and  tattered  back  impressed  him : 
"  Get  in  the  first  coach,  lad.  Help  him  in,  Jack." 

With  a  boost  from  the  brakeman  Ned  safely  landed 
upon  the  vestibuled  platform.  At  the  same  instant, 
as  though  he  had  touched  a  concealed  lever,  the  train 
started,  so  eager  was  it  to  be  again  under  way. 

Ned,  with  Tom  steadying  him,  entered  the  coach, 
and  sat  meekly  in  the  seat  next  to  the  door.  The 
conductor  came  to  interview  them,  and  curious  pas- 
sengers crowded  around ;  the  news  that  "  a  boy  has 
been  shot "  had  spread  adown  the  long  line  of  aisles. 

Tom  answered  a  multitude  of  questions  ;  and  Ned, 
too,  had  his  share.  He  told  everybody,  in  reply  to 
their  queries,  that  he  felt  all  right,  but  in  truth  his 
shoulder  was  beginning  to  throb  and  sting. 

Presently  a  physician  came  through,  and  after  a 
keen  look  into  Ned's  face,  and  a  light  fingering  of 
the  arm  and  shoulder,  pronounced  no  bones  broken ; 
and  being  told  that  the  victim  was  going  only  to 
Beaufort  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  wound  should 
wait,  rather  than  be  examined  on  the  train. 

Over  the  bridge  rumbled  the  train ;  and  in  a  mo- 
ment Ned  and  Tom,  two  forlorn  figures,  descended 
at  the  depot. 

Their  car  had  stopped  beyond  the  depot  crowd, 
and  nobody  noticed  them  emerge  from  the  vestibule, 
upon  the  bricks  below.  Tom,  who  had  halted  a 
limited  train,  was  equal  to  this  next  crisis. 

The  hacks  and  'buses  were  at  the  other  end  of  the 
depot,  but  across  the  wide  brick  walk  he  saw  Luke 


212  Beaufort  Chums 

Denee's  white  horse  and  veteran  express  and  transfer 
wagon,  with  Luke  himself  standing  by  it,  waiting  for 
whatever  hauling  the  train  might  have  brought  him. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Denee  !  Mr.  Denee  !  "  called  Tom,  run- 
ning forward.  "  Won't  you  carry  Ned  Miller  up 
town — he's  been  shot !  " 

"  What's  that  ?  "  inquired  Luke,  bustling  forward. 
"  Ned  Miller?  Where  is  he — why,  bless  my  soul!" 
catching  sight  of  Ned  himself.  "  Who  shot  him  ?  " 

"  I  did.  My  gun  went  off  by  accident,"  explained 
Tom,  wearily ;  he  was  growing  tired  of  confessing  it 
so  often.  "  He  ought  to  be  got  to  a  doctor  right 
away." 

"  You  bet  I'll  take  him,  and  we'll  get  him  there  in 
a  jiffy,"  assured  Luke.  "  Golly  the  grog  and  the 
great  horn  spoon,  Ned  boy — did  Tom  take  you  for 
a  goose,  or  a  snipe,  or  what  ?  " 

"  A  what,  I  guess,"  replied  Ned,  as  Luke  helped 
him  into  the  rear  of  the  wagon,  and  settled  him  upon 
a  trunk.  The  train  was  pulling  out,  and  from  every 
window  the  passengers'  faces  stared  out  upon  them. 

Barely  waiting  for  Tom,  with  the  two  guns,  to  leap 
into  the  wagon,  Luke  plumped  upon  the  seat  and  lift- 
ing the  lines  clucked  vigorously  to  his  white  horse. 
The  report  of  Ned's  plight  was  now  being  repeated 
from  mouth  to  mouth  through  the  depot  and  vicinity, 
and  as  the  wagon  rolled  away  and  turned  down  the 
street  it  was  followed  by  a  murmur  and  many  eyes. 

With  Ned  sitting  upon  the  trunk,  and  Tom  stand- 
ing beside  him  to  steady  him,  and  Luke  laying  the 


An  Unexpected  Bag  213 

whip  on  his  astonished  steed,  the  wagon  rattled  down 
the  thoroughfare.  Scenting  something  wrong,  the 
people  whom  it  passed  gazed  after  it  in  wonder. 

"Where  to?  Which  doctor?"  asked  Luke,  over 
his  shoulder. 

"  Dr.  Mathews — he's  the  one  the  Millers  use,"  di- 
rected Tom.  «  Is  that  all  right,  Ned  ?  " 

Ned  nodded. 

Dr.  Mathews'  office  was  at  his  house,  and  luckily 
they  caught  him  in.  Ned  was  wearing  a  hunting 
coat,  and  an  ordinary  coat  under  it.  The  doctor  put 
him  in  a  chair,  and  not  saying  "  by  your  leave " 
swiftly  and  skilfully  cut  away  the  layers  of  cloth,  and 
ripping  up  the  shirt  underneath  laid  bare  the  shoulder. 

Tom,  gazing,  beheld  a  group  of  little  round,  blue 
holes,  and  some  smears  of  blood. 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  he  groaned.     "  Isn't  that  awful ! " 

The  doctor  was  delicately  inserting  a  slender  steel 
probe  into  one  of  the  holes.  Ned,  hunched  over, 
holding  his  breath  and  clenching  his  teeth,  feared  a 
sorry  time. 

"  Does  it  hurt  you  much  ? "  asked  the  doctor, 
gently  exploring  with  the  probe. 

"  N-n-no,  it  doesn't,"  replied  Ned,  relieved.  He 
could  not  feel  the  probe  at  all. 

"  Numb,  eh  ?  "  remarked  the  doctor.  "  Well,  that's 
good." 

"  Is  it  very  bad,  doctor  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ! "  assured  the  doctor,  cheerfully. 
"  Just  a  flesh  wound,  and  in  a  week  or  so  you'll  be  as 


214  Beaufort  Chums 

well  as  ever !  You've  been  struck  by  only — let's  see 
— ten,  eleven,  thirteen — by  thirteen  shot,  and  they're 
on  top  of  the  shoulder-blade,  every  one  of  them,  so 
far  as  I  can  tell." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  ! "  sighed  Tom,  bursting  into 
tears.  Now  that  the  worst  was  over,  he  collapsed. 

"  Don't  cry,  Tom,  old  fellow,"  begged  Ned. 
"  Everything's  all  right,  now." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  assured  the  doctor.  "  But  you  had 
a  very,  very  narrow  escape.  The  load  must  have 
passed  between  your  shoulder  and  neck — and  if  it 
had  swerved  a  fraction  of  an  inch  to  the  right,  or  so 
as  to  enter  lower,  you'd  have  bled  to  death  long  be- 
fore this." 

"  Oh,  Ned ! "  exclaimed  Tom,  aghast  at  what  might 
have  been. 

"  But  it  didn't  swerve,  you  know,"  prompted  Ned. 

Here  Mr.  Miller,  frightened  as  he  never  had  been 
frightened  before,  rushed  in.  Bad  news  travels  fast. 

"  Ned ! "  he  cried,  at  the  sight  of  his  son  under  the 
probe. 

"  Now  that  will  do,  Mr.  Miller,"  cautioned  the  doc- 
tor, smiling  to  quiet  his  fear.  "  Ned  is  right  side  up, 
and  almost  ready  for  another  hunt.  He's  pretty 
tough,  you  must  understand." 

"  Nothing  serious  ?  "  questioned  Mr.  Miller. 

"  Not  in  the  slightest,"  asserted  the  doctor,  with  a 
belittling  shake  of  his  head,  and  withdrawing  the 
probe  from  the  last  hole.  "  I'll  simply  dress  this 
place  with  antiseptic,  and  you  can  take  him  home  in 


An  Unexpected  Bag  215 

my  carriage.  Just  have  him  keep  quiet  for  a  few 
days,  and  I  think  that  he'll  soon  be  as  fit  as  a  fiddle." 

So  Ned  was  carried  home  in  Doctor  Mathews' 
carriage,  his  father  driving.  Tom  was  left  to  bring 
the  guns,  and  answer  queries  along  the  way. 

One  would  suppose  that  Mrs.  Miller,  by  this  time, 
would  have  been  so  used  to  having  Ned  return  after 
having  figured  in  some  hair-breadth  escape,  that  she 
would  take  no  especial  notice  of  such  a  little  thing  as 
thirteen  shot  in  his  left  shoulder. 

But  when  she  witnessed  him  gingerly  clamber 
down  upon  the  horse-block,  his  arm  in  a  sling,  she 
acted  as  though  this  was  his  first,  instead  of  maybe 
his  hundredth,  accident. 

Yet  the  thirteen  shot  in  his  shoulder  did  not 
concern  her  so  much  as  did  the  rest  of  the  load, 
that  had  passed  so  near,  just  missing  his  neck  and 
his  lungs. 

Bob  followed  Ned  in  from  the  gate,  and  sniffing 
the  antiseptic,  and  wondering  why  his  master  did 
not  respond,  as  usual,  to  his  energetic  greetings,  re- 
mained upon  the  front  porch,  to  consider  the  new 
smell,  and  ponder  over  what  was  up. 

Ned's  wound  did  not  trouble  him  much.  He  got 
his  hurts  easily,  as  a  rule,  and  just  as  easily  he  was 
rid  of  them.  Young  blood  is  good  blood  for  heal- 
ing purposes,  as  well  as  for  purposes  in  general. 

Tom  was  constant  in  his  attentions,  as  were  Zu-zu 
and  Mrs.  Pearce.  They  sent  or  brought  fruit  and 
books  and  everything  that  might  benefit  or  amuse. 


216  Beaufort  Chums 

Neither  of  the  boys  could  understand  why  Tom's 
gun  had  exploded,  when  it  wasn't  cocked.  How- 
ever, upon  examining  the  cartridge  it  was  found  that 
the  cap  bore  a  faint  dot,  where  the  plunger  of  the 
gun  had  rested  upon  it.  The  cap  had  been  too 
sensitive,  and  a  light  jar  had  sent  it  off. 

"  Still,  I'd  no  business  to  have  it  pointed  toward 
you,"  asserted  Tom,  when  Ned  tried  to  excuse  him. 

"  Tom  says  he  guesses  you'll  never  want  to  go 
hunting  with  him  again,"  said  Zu-zu,  one  day,  on 
paying  a  visit  to  Ned.  "  He  says  he's  never  going 
again,  either." 

"  That's  all  nonsense,"  vowed  Ned.  "  You  tell 
him  so,  Zu-zu.  He's  the  safest  fellow  in  the  world 
to  go  with,  now,  he'll  be  so  mighty  careful.  My 
folks  think  that  way,  too." 

When  Zu-zu  went  home  she  carried  in  a  little  pill 
box  six  shot  that  the  doctor  had  cut  out  from  just 
beneath  the  skin  of  Ned's  back,  where  they  had 
come  to  the  surface ;  and  right  and  left  she  proudly 
showed  them  among  her  friends. 

Only  one  thing  remains  to  note.  Ten  days  after 
the  shooting,  Mrs.  Miller  finally  succeeded  in  tracing 
to  its  source  an  unsavory  odor  that  had  been  bother- 
ing her,  about  the  house,  for  some  time.  She 
searched  Ned's  ill-fated  hunting  coat,  and  with  a 
cry  of  disgust  bore  it,  at  arm's  length,  into  the 
room  where  Ned,  with  the  contented  Bob  beside 
him,  was  sitting. 

"  What  do  you  think  I  found  ?  "  she  asked,  thrust- 


An  Unexpected  Bag  217 

ing  in  her  hand,  and  drawing  out,  between  her  finger 
tips,  a  mass  of  feathers. 

"It's  a  plover!  "  fairly  shouted  Ned,  with  a  howl 
of  laughter.  "  That's  what  I  shot  the  day  I  was 
hurt.  I'd  forgotten  all  about  it.  Ugh!  Take  it 
away ! " 

"  And  Tom  was  so  jealous  that  he  shot  you  !  " 
retorted  Mrs.  Miller,  hurrying  out.  "  Well,  his  bag 
was  the  biggest,  I  think." 


CHAPTER  XIV 
BIG  MIKE  AGAIN 

"11     yl~RS.  MILLER,  can't   I   take   Ned   fish- 
%  / 1     ing  ?  "  asked   Tom,  through   the   open 

1.VJL    door. 

He  and  Ned  and  Bob  were  sitting  on  the  front 
porch.  It  was  two  weeks  after  the  shooting  accident, 
and  Ned,  aside  from  the  arm  still  carried,  for  safety, 
in  a  sling,  was  apparently  as  hale  as  ever.  Never  a 
day  passed  that  Tom  was  not  in  to  see  him  at  least 
once,  and  often  more  frequently,  and  visits  from 
Hal  and  other  friends  swelled  the  calling  list. 

Ned  had  told  so  many  times  just  "  how  it  felt  "  to 
be  shot,  that  now  it  was  an  old  story,  and  he  was 
getting  tired  of  being  the  fashion. 

"  Why I   hardly  think  it  would  be  wise, 

Tom,"  responded  Mrs.  Miller,  from  within. 

"  But  fishing'll  soon  be  over — that  is,  the  best  of 
it,"  pressed  Tom.  "  Perch  are  running  thick  as 
flies,  so  you  can  catch  them  as  fast  as  you  can  throw 
in  and  pull  out.  Hen  Swiggert  brought  home  a 
hundred  and  four  yesterday,  and  he  was  gone  just 
part  of  a  day.  It's  too  bad  Ned  has  got  to  miss  the 
fun." 

"  Twouldn't  hurt  me  a  bit,  mother,"  urged  Ned. 
"  'Twould  do  me  good." 

218 


Big  Mike  Again  219 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  keep  quiet,"  declared  his 
mother. 

"  He  can  be  just  as  quiet  as  he  is  here,"  argued 
Tom.  "  We'll  go  over  on  Eagle.  I'll  row  him,  and 
we'll  get  up  in  Catfish  Slough,  and  all  he'll  need  do 
will  be  sit  in  the  shade  and  fish.  He  can  fish  with 
one  hand,  easy." 

"  Of  course  I  can,"  agreed  Ned. 

"  Well,  we'll  see  what  the  doctor  says  about  it," 
promised  Mrs.  Miller ;  and  that  was  the  best  word 
that  the  boys  could  squeeze  out  of  her. 

The  doctor  said :  "  Go  ahead,  but  don't  get 
heated." 

"  Isn't  he  a  dandy  doctor,  though ! "  exclaimed 
Ned,  reporting  to  Tom. 

"  When  I'm  sick  he's  the  doctor  /  want !  I'll  tell 
my  mother  so,"  answered  Tom.  "  When  a  fellow's 
ready  to  go  out  he  doesn't  keep  him  in ! " 

The  boys  had  planned  to  use  the  scull-boat ;  but 
unluckily  it  turned  out  that  Hal  wanted  the  craft 
upon  the  same  day  as  they,  and  Ned  said,  "  All 
right." 

"  I  should  think  Hal  could  let  you  have  the  boat, 
considering  you're  hurt,"  hinted  Tom.  "  Why  can't 
he  ?  " 

"  He  and  Orrie  Lukes  are  going  up  the  river  and 
stay  all  night,"  explained  Ned ;  "  and  they  haven't 
any  other  boat  they  can  sleep  in  very  well.  The 
scull-boat's  dandy  for  sleeping  in  because  it  hasn't 
any  seats." 


22o  Beaufort  Chums 

Which  was  true. 

"  We  can  hire  a  skiff  from  Commodore  Jones,  I 
suppose,  then,"  said  Tom,  but  in  a  tone  not  wholly 
satisfied. 

"  I  suppose  we'll  have  to,"  replied  Ned.  "  We'll  get 
the  No.  19 — she  pulls  the  easiest  of  any.  But  I'd 
rather  have  the  scull-boat." 

"  I  tell  you  what !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  struck  with  an 
idea  which  had  popped  into  his  brain.  "  We'll  get  a 
boat  down  at  the  Paper-mill  Slough  and  then  all  we'll 
have  to  do  will  be  to  row  across." 

"  Whose  boat  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Tom.  "  Any- 
body's '11  do.  There  are  always  a  lot  of  skiffs  tied 
along  shore  there — old  leaky  things,  but  good 
enough  for  us  to  fool  with." 

"  It  wouldn't  be  stealing,  would  it  ?  "  asked  Ned, 
anxiously. 

"  No  ;  I  wouldn't  call  that  '  stealing,'  "  asserted 
Tom.  "  Some  of  them  don't  belong  to  anybody, 
'special.  They're  just  used  by  the  South  Beaufort 
fellows  to  monkey  in,  and  aren't  even  locked.  No- 
body'll  care  a  bit  if  we  take  one  for  a  day,  and  bring 
it  back.  It'll  save  us  a  big  row  up  against  the  cur- 
rent, too." 

"  Save  you,  you  mean,"  corrected  Ned.  "  I  can't 
row,  except  with  one  hand." 

"  You  shan't  row  a  stroke  !  "  decided  Tom,  alarmed 
lest  Ned  might  be  going  to  try.  "  I'm  running 


Big  Mike  Again  221 

this  shooting-match  !  "  Then  he  added,  doubtfully  : 
"  Zu-zu  wants  to  go." 

"  Let's  take  her,"  urged  Ned.  "  Of  course  !  She 
wouldn't  be  in  the  way  a  bit." 

"  Girls  are  a  kind  of  bother,  usually,  out  fishing, 
but  Zu-zu's  different  from  most  of  them,"  said  Tom, 
highly  pleased. 

"  Zu-zu's  got  sense.  She  doesn't  just  stand  round 
and  squeal,"  observed  Ned,  sagely. 

"  That's  right.  I'll  say  it,  if  she  is  my  sister," 
agreed  Tom. 

Half-past  five  o'clock  Saturday  morning  found  the 
four  of  them — Ned  and  Tom  and  Zu-zu  and  Bob — 
at  the  Paper-mill  Slough.  Ned  had  under  his  sound 
arm  his  and  Tom's  jointed  rods,  while  Zu-zu  proudly 
bore  a  slender  little  pole  purchased  for  her  by  Tom, 
on  the  previous  evening.  Tom  was  in  charge  of  a 
basket  of  lunch. 

This  basket  vexed  Zu-zu,  who  would  have  pre- 
ferred that  each  one  carry  a  few  slices  of  bread  and 
butter  and  sugar  done  up  in  a  paper  bag,  just  as  the 
boys  did  when  they  went  alone.  But  her  mother  had 
insisted  upon  the  basket,  with  lunch  in  it  for  three. 
Ned  was  to  furnish  nothing  ;  he  was  guest  of  honor. 

Bob  carried  himself. 

The  morning  was  ideal — dewy  and  balmy  and 
clear.  Zu-zu,  who  rarely  had  been  up  so  early 
before,  and  who  looked  on  this  outing  as  the 
greatest  event  of  her  life,  was  in  the  seventh 


222  Beaufort  Chums 

heaven  of  delight  over  everything ;  even  Bob 
could  not  keep  back  a  few  yelps ;  but  Ned  and 
Tom,  as  befitted  old  hunters  and  fishers,  used  to 
all  hours  and  to  all  sights,  were  very  matter-of- 
fact  and  stoical. 

Indeed,  Ned  had  thought  it  quite  out  of  keeping 
with  his  dignity  to  have  his  mother  arise  before  him, 
and  hover  over  him  while  he  ate  his  early  breakfast, 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  well  provided  for  and  that 
his  shoulder  was  not  troubling  him ! 

The  sun  was  half  an  hour  high,  and,  peeping  over 
the  trees  of  Eagle,  opposite,  was  shining  across  the 
smooth  waterway.  Fish  were  jumping,  birds  were 
twittering,  and  the  air  was  deliciously  fresh. 

With  their  noses  resting  upon  the  shore,  and  the 
little  ripples  lapping  against  their  sides,  just  below  the 
paper-mill  there  were,  as  Tom  had  predicted,  quite  a 
number  of  skiffs,  of  various  shapes  and  in  various 
stages  of  ruin.  But,  contrary  to  that  which  he  had 
predicted,  all  seemed  to  be  padlocked,  with  chains, 
to  rings  and  staples. 

"  That's  a  pretty  idea ! "  grumbled  Tom,  prying 
along  the  line.  "  You'd  think  the  old  shebangs  were 
worth  something !  " 

"Isn't  it  almost  stealing,  Ned?"  inquired  Zu-zu. 
"  Tom  says  it  isn't." 

"  N-no,"  replied  Ned,  weighing  the  pros  and  cons 
of  the  matter.  "  You  see,  if  we  find  a  boat  that's  un- 
locked it's  a  pretty  sure  sign  that  either  it  hasn't  an 
owner,  or  else  the  owner  doesn't  care  if  people 


Big  Mike  Again  223 

borrow  it.  We're  just  going  across  the  slough 
in  it." 

Zu-zu  accepted  the  decision  as  final;  Tom  and 
Ned  ought  to  know.  She  looked  on  anxiously  as 
Tom  examined  the  various  fastenings.  What  if  the 
trip  had  to  be  given  up ! 

Bob  sat  down  near  Ned,  and  whined.  He  won- 
dered why  this  fussing  and  delay.  It  was  only  a 
short  swim. 

"  Hurrah — here's  one  that's  only  tied,"  announced 
Tom. 

"  Goodie ! "  exclaimed  Zu-zu,  jumping  up  and 
down. 

Ned  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  Bob  pricked  up 
his  ears. 

"  Come  on,  Zu-zu,"  said  Ned,  descending  to  the 
boat,  at  the  bows  of  which  Tom  was  fumbling. 

The  boat  proved  to  be  the  worst  of  the  lot.  It 
was  a  clumsy-looking,  flat-bottomed  affair,  with 
square  ends,  and  unpainted. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  row  with  ?  "  asked  Zu-zu, 
stopping  short. 

Ned  stared  at  Tom,  and  Tom  stared  at  Ned.  Some- 
how, oars  had  not  occurred  to  them,  although  had 
they  thought,  they  would  have  known  that  whatever 
the  boat,  the  oars  would  not  be  left  in  it. 

"  I'll  paddle  with  a  board,"  declared  Tom.  "  You 
get  in  while  I'm  hunting  one." 

"  Sit  in  the  other  end,  Zu-zu,"  bade  Ned,  holding 
out  his  hand  to  help  her  as  she  sprang  from  seat  to 


224  Beaufort  Chums 

seat.  Bob  was  less  polite.  He  rushed  rudely  past 
her,  as  if  afraid  of  being  left,  and  planted  himself  in 
the  stern. 

"  Bob  !  Shame  on  you,"  reproved  Ned.  "  Don't 
you  know  that  the  rule  is  '  ladies  first '  ?  " 

"  But  that's  meant  for  men,  not  dogs,  isn't  it,  Bob  ?  " 
comforted  Zu-zu,  perching  herself  beside  him,  and 
sitting  on  her  feet  to  keep  them  out  of  the  water 
that  swished  about  in  the  leaky  craft. 

Tom,  with  a  piece  of  board  in  his  hands,  hurried 
back,  and  when  Ned  had  securely  squatted  upon  a 
seat  in  the  middle,  with  a  lusty  heave  he  slowly 
started  the  heavy  boat  from  its  mooring-place,  and 
tumbled  in. 

He  stood  up,  and  with  a  long,  sweeping  motion 
paddled  first  on  the  one  side  and  then  on  the  other. 
The  craft,  with  its  load,  gradually  crept  toward  the 
shore  of  Eagle,  a  stone's  throw  away.  Zu-zu,  fixed 
in  the  spot  assigned  her,  longed  to  trail  her  hand  in 
the  water,  but  refrained.  She  did  not  dare  so  much 
as  move,  lest  she  should  become  a  "  bother." 

Under  Tom's  efforts  they  floated  into  the  narrow 
mouth  of  a  little  bayou,  called  Catfish  Slough,  which 
wound  through  the  island  and  emptied  into  Beaver 
Lake,  in  the  centre  of  the  island. 

"  Gracious,  but  this  is  hard  work ! "  spoke  Tom, 
after  they  had  run  aground  several  times  in  round- 
ing corners.  "The  old  thing  won't  answer  her 
helm." 

"  Poor  Tom,"  cooed  Zu-zu. 


Big  Mike  Again  225 

"  Let's  get  out  and  walk,"  proposed  Ned.  "  It'll 
be  quicker,  and  easier,  too." 

Bob  already  was  walking — or,  rather,  scampering. 
According  to  his  custom,  as  the  boat  approached  the 
land  he  had  deserted. 

"  Let's,"  chimed  in  Zu-zu. 

Tom  swung  the  unwieldly  craft  in  broadside 
against  the  bank,  where  trees  and  bushes  came  clear 
to  the  water's  edge,  and  all  disembarked — although 
by  different  methods.  That  is,  Zu-zu  skipped  out, 
Ned  leaped  out,  and  Tom  merely  stepped  out, 
so  that  he  could  stoop  and  tie  the  chain  painter 
to  a  root.  Bob  was  present  to  welcome 
them. 

"  There ! "  Tom  said.  "  We've  got  here,  any- 
way." 

"  Nobody'll  take  it,  I  guess,"  remarked  Ned. 

"  Not  if  they  have  to  row  it,"  asserted  Tom. 

"  It's  the  Black  Swan  !  "  cried  Zu-zu,  gazing  back 
upon  it.  "  See  ?  It  has  the  name  on  the — the — 
well,  I  don't  know  whether  you  say  stern  or  bow, 
but  it's  right  under  where  I  was  sitting." 

"  Huh !  Black  Swan ! "  commented  Tom,  in 
scorn.  "  They  ought  to  name  it  Mud  Turtle'' 

"  You  ought  not  to  complain,  Tom,"  lectured 
Zu-zu.  "  You  might  have  had  no  boat  at  all." 

Then  she  suddenly  closed  her  lips,  and  grew  red, 
for  fear  lest  she  might  have  said  too  much. 

But  Ned  and  Tom  only  laughed  good-naturedly. 

They  walked  ahead  for  a  short  distance,  following 


226  Beaufort  Chums 

a  path  along  the  little  bayou,  until  they  came  upon  a 
place  where  the  bank  was  rather  high,  and  the  water 
before  it  was  unusually  wide  and  deep. 

"  This  will  do,  won't  it  ?  "  spoke  Ned,  who  was  in 
advance,  halting. 

"  I  guess  so,"  replied  Tom,  also  halting. 

Zu-zu  said  nothing ;  she  had  faith  in  the  two  boys. 
Bob  dashed  up  and  pausing  an  instant  to  catch  the 
drift  of  things,  dashed  off  again.  When  he  was  in 
the  woods  he  was  always  very,  very  busy. 

The  bothersome  basket,  which  nevertheless  was 
soon  to  make  itself  exceedingly  agreeable,  was 
dropped  at  the  foot  of  a  tree;  the  boys  fitted  to- 
gether the  joints  of  their  rods,  and  Ned  baited  Zu-zu's 
hook  for  her,  that  she  might  be  first  to  throw  in. 
Although  he  was  limited  to  one  arm,  he  could  use 
the  fingers  of  both  hands. 

Presently  Zu-zu  was  staring  at  her  cork,  bobbing 
upon  the  ripples. 

"  Oh,  it's  under — it's  under ! "  she  cried.  "  What 
shall  I  do?" 

"  Pull  it  out,  quick  ! "  commanded  Tom. 

Thereupon  Zu-zu  gave  a  tremendous  jerk,  twitch- 
ing high  into  the  air  an  astonished  perch,  which  fell 
back  with  a  splash.  The  empty  hook  landed  among 
the  bushes  far  behind. 

"  Oh,  dear  !     It  got  away  !  "  complained  Zu-zu. 

"  You  mustn't  jerk  so  hard,  Zu-zu,"  advised  Ned. 
"  Watch  how  we  do  it." 

At  that   instant   his   bobber,   too,   wavered,   and 


Big  Mike  Again  227 

ducked,  and  he  cleverly  lifted  to  land  a  fat  yellow 
perch. 

"  I've  got  one,  too  !  "  exclaimed  Tom. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  laughed  Ned,  joyfully.  "  They're 
biting  fine,  aren't  they?" 

"  Poor  things — just  see  how  they  flop,"  said 
Zu-zu,  watching  Ned  string  his  spoil.  "  Do  you 
suppose  it  hurts  them  so  very  much  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  fish  feel  as  much  as  we  do,  or  they 
wouldn't  have  been  made  to  be  caught,"  replied  Ned. 

"  Well,  please  don't  handle  them  any  rougher  than 
you  can  help,"  begged  Zu-zu ;  and  plunged  in 
thought,  she  freed  her  line  from  the  bushes,  and 
dropped  it  in  the  water  again. 

Nothing  more  happened  to  her  cork,  and  after 
guarding  it  for  some  time,  while  her  companions 
were  pulling  out  fish  right  along,  she  hopped  up, 
and  saying :  "  I  shan't  fish  any  more ;  I'm  going  to 
find  Bob  and  look  for  flowers,"  she  tripped  back  into 
the  woods. 

Ned  lifted  her  hook  and  glanced  at  it. 

"  Why,  your  hook  isn't  baited ! "  he  called  after 
her.  "  No  wonder  you  didn't  catch  anything." 

"  I  don't  care,"  answered  Zu-zu.  "  I  hate  to  see 
them  flop  so." 

Ned  baited  it  and  let  it  down  again. 

"  We'll  give  you  all  that  are  caught  on  it,  any- 
way," he  said. 

Each  of  the  boys  was  fishing  with  three  hooks 
on  a  line ;  and  the  perch  bit  so  boldly  that  often 


228  Beaufort  Chums 

three  were  hauled  out  at  a  time,  with  others  chasing 
them  clear  to  the  surface,  trying  to  take  the  worm 
from  their  mouths. 

Sometimes  a  round  sunfish  elbowed  a  perch  out 
of  the  road,  and  grabbed  the  bait,  only  to  meet  a 
sudden  fate. 

Zu-zu's  pole  and  hook  and  line,  attended  to  now 
by  Tom  and  now  by  Ned,  added  to  the  general  col- 
lection— and  very  nearly  did  more  ! 

"  Tom !  Grab  Zu's  pole — quick !  I  can't !  " 
warned  Ned,  abruptly,  himself  engaged  in  safely 
landing  two  large  perch. 

It  was  high  time,  indeed,  that  somebody  came  to 
the  rescue,  for  behold,  Zu-zu's  cork  was  completely 
out  of  sight,  and  her  pole,  pulled  by  an  invisible 
force,  was  sliding  into  the  water! 

"  It's  a  pickerel — it's  a  big  pickerel ! "  cried  Tom. 
"  I  saw  his  tail !  " 

He  sprang  for  the  pole — and  at  the  very  moment, 
with  a  bound  and  a  splash,  that  blundersome  Pob 
bolted  into  the  water,  from  the  other  side,  and  made 
for  their  spot,  laying  a  course  that  would  cut  exactly 
across  Zu-zu's  line. 

"  Go  back,  Bob  !  Bob,  go  back  !  "  ordered  Ned, 
furiously. 

But  Bob  swerved  not.  He  merely  flirted  the  water 
out  of  his  ears,  as  if  to  say :  "  I  don't  hear  you,"  and 
ploughed  on,  barking  his  defiance. 

Mr.  Pickerel  took  alarm.  Any  fish  might,  with 
Bob's  legs,  working  like  the  flappers  of  an  immense 


Big  Mike  Again  22Q 

turtle,  bearing  down  upon  him.  He  darted  for  cover. 
The  line  grew  taut — and  then  relaxed,  limp  and  life- 
less, while  the  thrill  all  went  out  of  the  pole  in  Tom's 
eager  hands. 

"  He  broke  the  hook  !  "  mourned  Tom,  hauling  in. 

"  Oh,  Bob !  "  accused  Ned. 

Bob  clambered  up,  shook  himself,  and  hied  into 
the  woods  once  more.  The  bayou  was  free  for  all, 
and  he  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  not  swim  in  it. 
He  certainly  had  to  cross,  some  way. 

"  He  was  longer  than  my  arm ! "  asserted  Tom, 
grieved,  and  gazing  with  regretful  eyes  at  the  worth- 
less shank  dangling  where  the  pickerel  ought  to  have 
been. 

"  Shucks  ! "  muttered  Ned ;  and  his  tone  held  a 
world  of  vexation  and  disappointment. 

Zu-zu  came  upon  the  scene.  She  heard  the  sad 
tale  without  being  in  the  least  vexed. 

"  I  don't  care  a  bit,"  she  said.  "  I'm  glad  the  fish 
got  away.  He  didn't  want  to  die,  I'm  sure.  And 
we  have  lots  of  other  fish,  you  know." 

It  was  plain  to  the  boys  that  Zu-zu,  being  a  girl, 
could  not  understand  what  a  truly  great  loss  had  been 
suffered.  So  they  did  not  argue  the  case. 

As  suddenly  as  they  had  commenced,  the  perch 
stopped  biting.  The  corks  lay  idly  upon  the  surface. 
The  sun  was  high  o'erhead.  The  dragon-flies  shot 
here  and  there  over  the  water,  and  the  gnats  buzzed 
around  the  fishermen's  ears,  and  the  ears  of  Mistress 
Zu-zu. 


230  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Let's  eat,"  suggested  Tom. 

"  Yes,  let's  eat,"  wagged  Bob,  appearing  as  if  by 
magic. 

The  rest  of  the  company  being  of  the  same  mind, 
the  napkiny  depths  of  the  basket  were  laid  bare — 
and  the  way  that  basket  heaped  coals  of  fire  upon  the 
heads  of  those  who  had  despised  it  was  a  caution  ! 

Fish  bit  only  slowly  during  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  One  might  have  thought  that  they  had  worn 
themselves  out  with  their  greedy  efforts  of  the  early 
morning.  Zu-zu  and  the  two  boys  idled  in  the  shade 
on  the  turf,  and  Bob,  tireless,  roamed  east,  west,  north 
and  south.  If  the  island,  formerly  his  home,  recalled 
any  memories  to  his  doggish  mind,  he  showed  no 
will  to  sit  and  dream  over  them. 

The  shadows  of  the  trees  were  long  and  pointed, 
bridging  the  Bayou,  when  the  boys  drew  in  the  lines, 
and  unjointed  the  poles,  and  counted  their  fish. 

"  How  many  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Fifty-three,"  proclaimed  Tom.  "  How  many  you 
got  ?  " 

"  Forty-two,"  answered  Ned.     "  You  beat  me." 

"  But  you  had  only  one  arm,"  reminded  Tom. 

"  Let's  see — fifty-three  plus  forty-two — that  makes 
ninety-five ;  and  then  there's  the  big  fish  that  got 
away,  which  makes  ninety -six !  "  exclaimed  Zu-zu. 
"  My,  what  a  lot !  You  ought  to  put  some  of  them 
back." 

"  We've  put  the  big  pickerel  back ;  that's  all  we 
can  spare,"  asserted  Tom,  ruefully. 


Big  Mike  Again  231 

They  retraced  their  steps  of  the  morning,  along 
the  path,  until 

«  Say — where's  our  boat  ?  "  cried  Ned,  astounded. 

They  had  arrived  at  the  spot  where  they  had  left 
the  Black  Swan,  but  the  craft  had  disappeared. 

"  Certain  this  is  the  place  ?  "  asked  Tom.  "  Yes,  it 
must  be,"  he  continued.  "There's  the  root  I  tied  to." 

"  Somebody  came  along  and  helped  himself,  that's 
all  there  is  to  it,"  declared  Ned. 

"  Maybe  it  just  floated  off,"  guessed  Zu-zu. 

"  No,  it  couldn't ;  or  else  it  would  have  come  our 
way,  with  the  current,  you  know,  Zu-zu,"  corrected 
Tom.  "  I  call  that  a  downright  mean  trick,  to  take 
our  boat  like  this." 

"  But  we.  did  the  very  same  thing,  ourselves.  The 
boat  wasn't  ours  in  the  first  place,"  retorted  Zu-zu, 
daringly. 

"  Well,  the  only  thing  to  do  is  to  follow  on  up  the 
slough,  and  if  we  don't  come  across  the  boat  we'll 
have  to  wait  for  somebody  to  take  us  over  to  the 
paper-mill,"  spoke  Ned. 

They  followed  Catfish  until  they  reached  its  head, 
where  it  branched  off  from  Paper-mill  Slough.  They 
caught  not  a  glimpse  of  the  Black  Swan.  As  they 
reached  the  shore  the  Beaufort  whistles  were  blowing 
six  o'clock.  The  sun  was  slipping  behind  a  heavy 
bank  of  clouds,  and  dusk  was  at  hand.  The  three 
could  not  make  out  a  single  person  anywhere  near 
them,  to  succor  them,  and  standing  there  upon  the 
muddy  strand,  with  darkness  closing  in,  and  with 


232  Beaufort  Chums 

nothing  to  eat  and  no  place  to  sleep,  they  felt  like 
forlorn,  shipwrecked  sailors. 

Bob,  however,  curled  himself  in  a  ball,  and  went 
into  a  shivery  doze. 

"  Here  come  some  people,"  announced  Tom. 

Through  the  mist  now  rising  out  of  the  water  a 
boat  approached  from  the  town  side  of  the  slough. 
It  carried  a  dozen  Eagle  Islanders  who  worked  at  the 
sawmills,  and  were  returning  home  for  the  night. 

"  I'll  go  and  ask  them  to  take  us  over,"  volunteered 
Tom. 

«  No,  I'll  go,"  cried  Ned.  «  They'll  listen  quicker  to 
a  fellow  with  one  arm." 

The  islanders  landed  some  distance  above  the  little 
party,  and  tumbled  out  so  quickly  that  by  the  time 
Ned  had  arrived  all  but  one  had  trudged  into  the 
woods.  This  one  was  bending  over,  fastening  the 
boat. 

"  Hello,"  hailed  Ned.  "  Can't  you  please  take  us 
over  the  slough  ?  We've  lost  our  boat." 

But  the  man  only  grunted,  and  shook  his  head ; 
and  picking  up  his  dinner  bucket  and  coat,  and  the 
oars,  stolidly  tramped  away. 

Ned,  indignant,  examined  the  boat's  chain,  with 
the  hot  idea  of  using  the  craft,  anyway;  but  he 
found  that  it  was  padlocked. 

He  went  back  to  his  companions,  who  had  been 
eagerly  watching,  and  reported. 

"  Oh,  dear,  what  shall  we  do  ?  "  wailed  Zu-zu,  be- 
ginning to  be  dismal  from  the  mist  and  the  shadows, 


Big  Mike  Again  233 

and  the  suspicion  that  everybody  but  them  was  going 
to  supper. 

"  We'll  yell  like  everything,  and  attract  some  one's 
attention  on  the  other  side,"  proposed  Ned. 

"  I'd  swim  and  get  a  boat,  if  the  water  wasn't  so 
cold,"  said  Tom. 

"  Don't  try,  Tom.  You'd  get  a  cramp,"  begged 
Zu-zu. 

The  boys  shouted,  and  Zu-zu  screamed,  and  all 
waved  their  handkerchiefs,  while  Bob  raised  his  head 
in  astonishment.  Presently  Tom  panted : 

"  Somebody's  putting  out  in  a  boat,  all  right 
enough.  Keep  it  up." 

From  the  mainland  opposite,  where  lights  were  be- 
ginning to  twinkle,  a  boat,  barely  seen  against  the 
dark  shore-line,  was  starting  out  into  the  slough. 
They  heard  the  rattle  of  the  oars  dropping  into  the 
oar-locks. 

"  Keep  yelling,"  gasped  Ned. 

And  they  did,  until  it  was  plain  that  the  boat  was 
making  for  them. 

"  It's  the  Black  Swan  !  "  whispered  Zu-zu,  excit- 
edly, as  the  craft  neared. 

"  Oh,  no,"  scoffed  Tom. 

"  But  it  is,  it  is  !  "  insisted  Zu-zu.     "  I  know  it  is  !  " 

And  as  it  glided  up  through  the  muddy  shallows 
at  their  feet  they  saw  that  the  Black  Swan  it  was. 
The  rower  stood  up,  and  turned  to  face  them.  He 
was  Big  Mike ! 

Bob  growled. 


234  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Want  to  go  across  ? "  asked  Big  Mike,  with  a 
grin. 

"  Yes — that  is,  we've  lost  our  boat,"  stammered 
Ned,  awkwardly. 

"  Get  in ;  I'll  take  you,"  offered  the  South  Beau- 
forter. 

"  Will  you  ?     Good  for  you  !  "  exclaimed  Ned. 

"  I  should  say  so  ! "  spoke  Tom. 

Zu-zu  was  too  flabber-gasted  by  the  sudden  pres- 
ence of  this  arch  ogre  to  say  a  word. 

They  marched  in.  Bob  followed,  with  a  dash  to 
get  past  his  enemy  in  safety. 

"  Was  it  you  folks  that  took  this  boat  ?  I  found 
her  up  Catfish  a  little  ways,"  queried  Big  Mike,  push- 
ing off. 

"  Well — yes.  You  see,  it  was  unlocked,  and  we 
didn't  know  it  belonged  to  anybody  especial,  and  we 
wanted  to  get  across,"  explained  Ned. 

"  It  didn't  make  no  difference,"  said  Big  Mike. 
"  If  I'd  knowed  who  had  it  I  wouldn't  have  cared. 
Only,  I  thought  some  of  them  Dutch  on  the  island 
had  got  it.  They're  all  the  time  doin'  that." 

"  Let  me  row,"  urged  Tom. 

"  Naw ;  she  rows  easy  after  she  gets  started," 
grunted  Big  Mike. 

"  It's  an  awful  nice  boat.  Did  you  name  it  ? " 
piped  Zu-zu,  timidly,  hoping  to  please  their  dreadful 
host.  Who  knows — he  might  be  planning  to  dump 
them  in  the  slough,  and  drown  them ! 

Big  Mike  wriggled  uneasily,  evidently  flattered. 


Big  Mike  Again  235 

"  Naw ;  she  was  named  before  I  got  her,"  he  an- 
swered. "  She  ain't  very  pretty,  but  she's  good 
enough  for  'round  here. 

"  How's  your  shoulder  ? "  he  asked,  gruffly,  of 
Ned. 

"  It's  about  well.  It  wasn't  much,  anyway,"  re- 
sponded Ned. 

They  were  half-way  across,  and  the  rest  of  the  dis- 
tance was  covered  in  silence,  save  when  once  Big 
Mike  remarked  again  gruffly :  "  Perch  runnin'  thick, 
ain't  they  ?  "  to  which  both  boys  assented. 

"  We're  much  obliged,  Mike,"  spoke  Ned,  as  they 
rose  to  step  out.  "  Aren't  we,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir-ee  !  "  exclaimed  Tom. 

"  Oh,  'twasn't  nothin',"  growled  Big  Mike,  tying 
the  boat.  "  I  jest  heared  somebody  yellin',  an' 
thought  I'd  go  over  an'  get  'em.  I  seen  there  was  a 
girl,  and  a  feller  with  one  arm  done  up." 

Ned  whispered  to  Tom,  and  Tom  nodded,  and 
with  a  gesture  passed  a  string  of  fish  to  Zu-zu. 

"  Here,"  said  Zu-zu,  holding  out  the  string  to  Big 
Mike. 

"  /  don't  want  'em,"  declared  Big  Mike,  straighten- 
ing after  his  task. 

"  But  we  ought  to  pay  you  for  the  use  of  the  boat," 
said  Zu-zu.  "  And  for  coming  after  us,  too ;  and 
we've  got  more  fish  than  we  can  eat.  There — you'll 
have  to  take  them,"  and  she  dropped  them  in  a  scaly 
heap  at  his  feet.  Then  the  three  of  them  hastened 
up  the  bank,  with  Bob,  glad  to  be  free  from  the  pres- 


236  Beaufort  Chums 

ence  of  his  foe,  frisking  ahead.  Looking  back,  they 
saw  Big  Mike  slowly  lift  the  fish,  and,  shouldering  his 
oars,  start  off,  no  doubt  homeward. 

"  Big  Mike's  not  so  bad,  after  all ;  is  he  ?  "  asserted 
Zu-zu. 

"  No,"  agreed  Tom  and  Ned. 

Bob  did  not  join  in  this  opinion.  Nothing  that 
Big  Mike  would  do  could  make  up,  in  the  mind  of 
Bob,  for  past  offenses. 


CHAPTER  XV 
JUST  ABOUT  BOB 

BOB  had  now  rounded  into  a  fine,  strong  dog, 
pleasing  in  manners  and  respectable  in  ap- 
pearance. At  the  time  of  his  rescue  from 
the  barn  by  Ned  and  Hal  he  was  in  his  hobbledehoy 
period — in  dogs,  as  in  boys,  that  awkward,  sappy 
state  betwixt  puppyhood  and  eye-teethhood.  Out 
of  this  he  had  grown  up,  under  the  good  food  and 
kind  treatment  of  the  Miller  household,  into  a  dog 
who  was  a  credit  to  the  family. 

He  was  rather  larger  than  a  pointer  should  be, 
with  a  head  unusually  wide  and  full,  a  sign  of  great 
intelligence.  His  nose  was  a  bit  blunt ;  and  this,  and 
his  head,  and  his  stubbornness,  caused  critics  to  hold 
that  somewhere  in  his  ancestry  was  a  strain  of  bull- 
dog blood. 

His  ears  were  thin  and  long  and  velvety,  drooping 
below  his  chops ;  his  lips  were  loose  and  swaying, 
and  the  skin  of  his  neck  was  loose  and  wrinkly. 
His  eyes  were  a  beautiful,  faithful  brown.  His  coat 
was  a  rich  mahogany,  and  was  even  and  glossy.  He 
had  a  magnificent  chest — broad,  massive,  with  a  bone 
that  jutted  out  like  that  of  a  turkey  gobbler.  Be- 
hind it  was  a  barrel  of  a  body,  which  all  of  Mrs. 
Miller's  stuffing  never  could  make  else  but  lean ; 

237 


238  Beaufort  Chums 

while  his  ribs  narrowed  away  until  at  his  flanks  they 
ended  in  a  sad  hollow. 

In  truth,  Bob's  front  half  was  much  superior  to  his 
rear  half,  which  ran  off  into  a  short,  stubby  tail 
tipped  with  a  warty  knob.  Whether  some  accident 
had  happened,  to  blight  this  tail  in  Bob's  infancy,  or 
whether  his  mother's  family  had  been  so  unexpect- 
edly large  that  there  had  not  been  material  enough 
for  finishing  Bob  completely,  no  one  could  say.  At 
any  rate,  he  was  not  fitted  with  a  tail  such  as  a  dog 
of  his  size  and  breed  should  have,  and  he  was  always 
more  or  less  conscious  of  the  fact. 

Reference  has  been  made  to  Bob's  grin.  When 
he  was  tickled  over  anything  his  whole  upper  lip 
curled  back,  exposing  a  row  of  shining  white  teeth 
and  brilliant  red  gums.  Thus,  grinning  at  one  end 
and  wagging  at  the  other,  he  tried  to  show  his 
pleasure.  However,  it  was  not  a  becoming  face  that 
he  made  when  he  grinned,  and  many  people,  not 
used  to  his  oddity,  mistook  it  for  a  snarl,  and  were 
afraid.  As  soon  as  they  came  to  know  him,  they 
understood  what  a  good-natured  fellow  he  was. 

Indeed,  a  more  good-natured  dog  never  lived. 
Also,  never  lived  a  dog  queerer  and  more  human. 
No  one  made  his  acquaintance  but  to  like  him,  and 
he  was  suffered  to  do  things  that  would  have  earned 
rebuke  for  any  dog  but  him. 

When  Ned  was  absent  at  school,  sometimes  Bob 
would  become  lonely,  and  would  start  out  to  find  his 
master.  In  manner  unknown — but  through  his 


Just  About  Bob  239 

nose,  or  ears,  or  eyes — he  had  discovered  the  room 
in  which  Ned  was  caged  during  school  hours,  and 
there,  in  his  quest,  he  would  betake  himself. 

If  the  door  was  open,  in  he  would  saunter,  and 
sniff  down  the  aisle;  and  perhaps  the  first  hint  to 
Ned  of  Bob's  presence  would  be  that  sturdy  head 
laid,  amid  titters,  upon  his  knee. 

As  a  rule  Ned  was  asked  by  the  teacher  to  escort 
Bob  to  the  door  again.  But  occasionally  Mr.  Bob 
would  choose,  rather,  to  climb  into  an  empty  seat, 
and  there,  by  quietly  curling  for  sleep,  make  amends 
for  his  intrusion.  In  this  case  he  was  allowed  to 
remain,  and  the  room  speedily  forgot  that  he  was 
there. 

At  the  stroke  of  the  bell,  Bob  always  promptly 
arose  and  trotted  out. 

Whether  or  not  he  learned  anything  of  mathemat- 
ics or  physiology  or  grammar  during  his  snooze  may 
be  a  mooted  question ;  but  Ned  and  friends  claimed 
that  he  did. 

When  it  happened  that  Bob  did  not  find  Ned's 
seat  occupied,  he  hopped  into  it,  and  there  sat  bolt 
upright,  as  if  to  fill  the  vacancy,  until  Ned  returned. 
Once  in  a  while  he  would  refuse  to  get  out — and 
then  would  be  hauled  down  by  the  collar,  and  led  in 
disgrace  to  the  door. 

With  all  the  wisdom  got  in  school,  nevertheless 
Bob  did  many  foolish  tricks.  For  instance,  he 
should  have  known  better  than  to  bury  pancakes  in 
the  fall,  expecting  to  dig  them  up  and  eat  them  in 


240  Beaufort  Chums 

the  winter !  When  the  pancakes  were  buried,  they 
and  the  ground  were  soft  together ;  but  when  they 
were  sought  again,  a  month  or  so  later,  they  came 
up — if  at  all — in  flinty  shreds  scarcely  to  be  told 
from  the  dirt.  Yet  Bob  seemed  not  to  foresee  this  ; 
and  even  during  winter  thaws  he  persisted  in  scratch- 
ing small  holes  and  placing  in  them  buckwheat 
cakes,  for  use  in  the  future ! 

He  so  loved  to  bury  things  that  his  nose  was 
nearly  always  crowned  with  a  little  ridge  of  soil. 
Once  he  brought  home  a  five-pound  roast  of  beef, 
which  a  neighbor  had  got  at  the  butcher's  with  intent 
to  have  it  for  dinner.  Bob  buried  it  in  the  garden, 
and  for  a  week  and  more  regularly  uncovered  it,  took 
a  few  delicious  gnaws,  and  covered  it  up  again. 

Ned  was  obliged  to  find  the  neighbor  another 
roast. 

Bob  was  a  dog  not  easily  convinced.  This  is  a 
polite  way  of  putting  it,  for  the  trait  was  neither 
more  nor  less  than  downright  stubbornness.  When 
he  would  not  do  a  thing,  he  wouldn't,  until  at  last 
persuaded  by  kind  words,  or  hope  of  reward,  or  fear 
of  punishment. 

Ned  found  that  patience  and  gentle  argument 
were  better  than  blows,  to  make  Bob  yield,  so 
threshings  were  dropped  from  the  list  of"  persuaders." 
Bob  had  a  keen  sense  of  shame,  and  the  tone  of  the 
voice  could  make  him  feel  worse  than  the  hardest 
licking. 

His  stubbornness  was  twice  very  nearly  his  death. 


Just  About  Bob  241 

The  first  time,  he  was  simply  bound  not  to  budge 
one  inch  from  the  way  of  a  heavy  farm  wagon.  He 
lay  flat  in  the  road,  and  waited  for  the  wagon  to 
turn  out  for  him.  But  the  wagon  kept  upon  its 
route,  and  Bob,  still  sticking  to  his  position,  did 
nothing  but  howl  his  protests  as  the  wheels  passed 
over  his  back. 

His  bones  being  soft,  he  arose  unhurt,  and  stalked 
off  in  the  sulks. 

The  second  time  had  as  a  scene  the  approach  to 
the  high  trestle  bridging  a  slough  just  beyond  the 
farther  end  of  the  river  bridge.  Ned  and  Bob  had 
been  for  a  walk,  and  upon  the  return  Bob  had  refused 
to  walk  the  trestle.  According  to  his  custom  he 
flopped  down,  like  a  spoiled  child,  on  the  spot. 

Ned  went  ahead,  hoping  that  at  last  Bob  would 
arise  and  follow.  He  had  gone  a  short  distance, 
leaving  Bob  sprawled  on  the  gravel  in  the  middle 
of  the  railroad  track,  when  suddenly  he  heard  the 
rumble  of  a  train,  nearing  from  behind. 

«  Bob  !  Here,  Bob !  Here,  Bob  ! "  he  called,  run- 
ning back. 

But  Bob  dumbly  declined. 

"  Get  up !     Bob  !     Get  up  !  "  cried  Ned. 

Bob,  with  his  master  coming  from  one  way  and  the 
train  coming  from  the  other,  stayed  on  his  spot,  deaf 
to  the  appeals  of  the  former  and  the  warnings  of  the 
latter. 

The  engine  reached  him  first.  Ned,  horrified,  saw 
him  hurled  into  the  air,  up,  up,  twenty  feet,  his  legs 


242  Beaufort  Chums 

dangling  and  his  ears  flopping.  Turning  slow  somer- 
saults down  he  came,  clear  of  the  trestle,  into  the 
depths  below.  Ned  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  engineer 
and  fireman  looking  back  from  the  cab  and  laughing) 
which  made  him  mad. 

The  first  freeze  of  the  fall  had  covered  the  slough 
with  an  inch  of  ice.  Down  dropped  Bob,  as  swiftly 
as  though  he  were  from  the  dog-star,  and  lit  squarely, 
in  a  sitting  position,  on  a  shallow  place. 

The  sound  of  a  shrill  yelp  floated  up  to  Ned,  lean- 
ing over  to  gaze.  Bob  bounced  to  his  feet,  and 
leaving  the  outlines  of  his  hind  parts,  with  a  hole 
marking  where  his  tail  had  bored,  across  the  slough 
he  fled,  his  ki-yi's  drifting  behind  him,  fainter  and 
fainter. 

After  much  whistling  Ned  found  him  again,  hid- 
ing in  the  woods.  In  body  Bob  was  uninjured,  but 
his  feelings  had  been  hurt;  and  for  some  time  he 
could  not  be  made  to  believe  but  that  a  mean  trick 
had  been  played  upon  him  by  Ned  and  the  train. 

Finally  he  allowed  himself  to  be  coaxed  upon  the 
trestle,  and  with  whimper  and  trembling,  with  tail  be- 
tween his  legs  and  with  many  a  backward  glance,  he 
made  the  journey  across. 

Thereafter  he  took  the  trestle  in  a  hurry,  without 
a  sign  of  hesitation.  He  had  learned  a  lesson. 

Bob's  stubbornness  was  not  always  of  mischief  to 
him.  Sometimes  it  stood  him  in  good  stead,  and 
above  all  in  his  fights.  Now,  Bob  was  not  willingly 
a  fighter.  There  were  times  when  he  would  run 


Just  About  Bob  243 

from  a  dog  not  half  his  size.  This  lack  of  spirit  was 
a  cause  of  great  vexation  to  Ned,  who,  while  he 
would  not  have  Bob  a  bully  like  some  dogs,  upon 
the  other  hand  would  not  have  him  a  craven  and  a 
coward. 

But  when  cornered,  or  when  once  started,  Bob 
was  a  perfect  demon  at  a  fight.  The  dog  that 
picked  upon  him,  thinking  to  be  able  to  nag  him 
without  return,  was  likely  to  have  a  sudden  rush  of 
trouble. 

Bob's  great  jaws  closed  on  him  with  a  grip  that 
no  struggles  could  break.  When  Bob  bit,  he  bit  for 
keeps. 

He  had,  in  Beaufort,  two  particular  enemies — 
almost  the  sole  enemies  that  he  knew.  Both  were 
white  bulldogs ;  one  lived  down  town  in  a  drug 
store,  and  the  other  lived  behind  a  picket  fence,  out 
toward  the  flats. 

Up  and  down  before  this  picket  fence  would  race 
Bob,  and  up  and  down  behind  it  would  race  his 
enemy,  and  between  the  pickets  sped  a  thousand 
names  and  epithets,  the  most  stinging  in  dog  lan- 
guage. 

These  were  Bob's  moments  of  bravery ;  but  let  the 
bulldog  dart  out  at  him,  around  a  corner  or  through 
a  hole,  and  Bob  would  flee  for  dear  life,  with  his  foe 
bellowing  at  his  heels. 

This  state  of  affairs  lasted  for  several  months,  until, 
one  day,  Bob  was  surprised  and  crowded  against  a 
high  sidewalk,  and  obliged  to  make  a  stand.  The 


244  Beaufort  Chums 

bulldog,  after  worrying  him  for  a  short  space,  on  a 
sudden  found  himself  matched  against  a  very  angry 
lion.  Bob's  temper  was  roused.  He  outweighed 
the  bulldog,  he  outdid  him  in  strength  and  agility, 
and  that  canine  had  a  sorry  time  before  the  people 
who  gathered  could  force  Bob's  teeth  to  unclose 
from  a  certain  white  fore-leg.  As  for  Bob,  the  loose 
skin  about  his  throat  had  been  all  that  the  bulldog 
could  seize. 

This  bulldog's  day  as  an  ogre  was  over.  Hence- 
forth he  was  a  wiser  and  more  humble  animal. 

The  drug  store  dog  learned  a  like  lesson  in  a  like 
way.  One  evening  he  cornered  Bob  in  between  some 
dry  goods  boxes,  and  set  about  to  have  fun  out  of  him. 
The  "  fun  "  ended  with  Ned  dancing  around  in  dis- 
may, while  a  policeman,  by  the  aid  of  lighted  matches 
and  the  handle  of  his  club,  induced  Bob  to  let  go ! 
Then  the  bulldog's  owner,  crestfallen  and  wrathful, 
carried  his  fallen  champion  home  in  his  arms. 

Bob  proudly  trotted  on  his  way,  licking  his  bloody 
chops.     His    enemy   was    retired    for   a   week,   and 
came  forth   again  more  discreet,  and   smelling  of 
arnica. 

Yet,  with  all  his  victories,  Bob  never  went  around 
with  a  chip  on  his  shoulder.  He  much  preferred 
peace  to  war. 

Bob's  greatest  gift  was  swimming.  The  pointer 
family  is  supposed  not  to  like  the  water,  especially, 
save  as  a  relief  from  the  heat ;  but  be  it  hot  or  cold, 
Bob  was  ever  ready  for  a  plunge.  His  favorite  fun 


Just  About  Bob  245 

was  to  get  out  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  where  the 
current  was  deepest  and  swiftest,  and  swim  up  stream. 
He  would  do  this  with  no  object,  it  seemed,  except 
showing  off  his  powers  in  the  water. 

Ah,  what  a  grand  swimmer  Bob  was  !  With  his 
splendid  fore-shoulders  high  and  dry  above  the  sur- 
face, and  his  mighty  chest  throwing  the  waters  aside 
in  a  rolling  wave,  he  would  plough  his  path,  regard- 
less of  the  distance,  to  the  goal.  If  permitted,  he 
would  swim  for  hours  at  a  time — aimlessly  paddling 
hither  and  thither,  chasing  stray  bits  of  wood  and 
even  bubbles. 

He  would  make  a  pretense  at  diving,  but  this  con- 
sisted simply  in  sticking  his  head  under,  and  with- 
draw it  in  a  instant,  coughing,  and  shaking  the  water 
out  of  his  ears. 

Had  he  not  been  gun-shy  he  would  have  been  an 
ideal  retriever  for  ducks.  Indeed,  Ned  taught  him  to 
retrieve  sticks  and  balls,  and  other  things  thrown  for 
the  purpose ;  and  whether  or  not  Bob  had  seen  them 
drop,  by  ranging  in  circles  he  always  found  them  and 
laid  them  at  his  master's  feet. 

Ned  also  taught  him  to  "  charge."  Bob  would 
stay  crouched  against  the  walk  or  road  until  Ned  or 
Mr.  Miller  had  gone  on  for  a  block,  perhaps  ;  his  eyes 
would  be  shining  with  eagerness,  and  his  body  fairly 
quivering  with  excitement. 

"  Come  on,  Bob,"  would  sound  the  whistle. 

One  note  was  enough.  Up  would  he  leap,  and 
like  a  cannon-ball  down  would  he  streak,  yapping 


246  Beaufort  Chums 

with  glee  at  every  jump.  He  never  grew  tired  of  this 
game. 

He  would  mind  Ned  or  Mr.  Miller — but  upon  Mrs. 
Miller  or  Maggie,  the  girl,  he  used  to  impose  dread- 
fully. Let  them  try  to  stir  him  from  the  space  that 
he  had  chosen  before  the  kitchen  or  dining-room 
stove,  and  he  would  give  a  growl  so  gruff  as  to 
frighten  them  into  the  distance  again.  They  would 
not  catch  the  chuckle  under  the  growl.  However, 
he  never  tried  to  fool  Ned  or  Ned's  father.  When 
they  said  "  Get  up,"  Bob  got! 

If  he  decided  to  accompany  Mrs.  Miller  or  Maggie, 
he  always  managed  to  do  it.  They  might  send  him 
back,  as  they  supposed,  a  dozen  times ;  he  only  made 
a  short  circuit,  and  sneaking  along  behind  fences  and 
sidewalks  would  come  out  upon  them,  and  grin.  In 
spite  of  their  scolding,  and  the  stones  and  sticks  that 
they  tried  to  throw  at  him,  he  persevered,  and  had 
his  way. 

He  did  not  bamboozle  the  two  other  members  of 
the  family.  It  was  only  the  women  upon  whom  he 
played  tricks.  He  knew  that,  with  all  their  threats, 
they  could  not  bear  to  hurt  him. 

His  bedroom  was  the  barn  loft,  save  when,  in  the 
hottest  weather,  he  moved  down-stairs.  His  favorite 
bed  was  a  burrow  in  the  hay  ;  when  a  fresh  load  ar- 
rived, Bob  would  dig  and  nose  into  it,  until  he  had 
made  a  long  hole  extending  so  far  back  that,  in  his 
nest  at  the  end  of  it,  he  was  quite  out  of  reach. 

To  Bob,  Ned  was  the  whole  world.     It  offered  no 


Just  About  Bob  247 

bliss  that  could  equal  the  touch  of  Ned's  hand,  and 
no  music  that  might  equal  the  sound  of  Ned's  voice. 
Just  to  be  near  Ned  was  joy  enough  for  Bob,  and  if 
allowed  to  snuggle  at  his  master's  side  he  was  in 
ecstasy.  A  kind  pat  and  an  encouraging  word  was 
all  the  reward  that  he  wanted,  no  matter  how  hard 
had  been  his  task.  Ned  was  at  once  his  playmate 
and  his  king,  and  life  held  nothing  more. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  LAST  OF  BOB 

ONE  o'clock  in  a  morning  of  the  last  of  May, 
and  the  Miller  household,  all  unconscious 
of  disaster,  was  soundly  slumbering.     Then 
in  amidst  Ned's  dreams  crept  a  dull  series  of  noises, 
which  became  a  persistent  pounding.     Ned  imagined 
that  he  had  dived  under  his  scull-boat,  and  that  the 
other  boys  were  hammering  upon  the  hull,  outside, 
to  bother  him.     He  struggled  to  escape,  but  some- 
how he  seemed  unable  to  get  to  the  top  again.     This 
is  the  way  with  dreams. 

Mr.  Miller,  too,  heard  a  pounding  ;  only,  he  awak- 
ened enough  to  know  that  it  was  a  real  pounding, 
upon  the  front  door,  and  was  no  dream. 

He  sprang  from  bed,  and  sticking  his  head  out  of 
the  window  over  the  porch  called  : 

"  What's  the  matter  down  there?" 

"  Are  you  folks  all  dead  ?  "  called  back  a  man. 
"  Get  up !  Your  barn's  afire  !  " 

And  Mr.  Miller  suddenly  saw  that  the  night  around- 
about  was  strangely  lighted. 

Ned  was  still  striving  to  escape  from  under  the 
scull-boat,  when  he  was  brought  to  the  surface  in  a 
flash  by  his  father's  commanding  voice : 

"  Ned  !     Ned  !     The  barn's  on  fire !  " 
248 


The  Last  of  Bob  249 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  wailed  Ned,  striking  the  floor  in  a 
heap. 

"  Keep  cool,  Ned,"  encouraged  his  father.  "  And 
dress  as  fast  as  you  can." 

Trying  to  force  his  eyes  open,  and  collect  his 
senses,  Ned  fumbled  for  his  clothes.  Now  the  night 
in  his  room  was  turned  to  day  by  a  glare  of  red  light, 
and  he  could  see  flames  reflected  in  the  mirror  of  his 
bureau.  In  through  the  window  floated  a  sharp 
crackling. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  he  groaned,  again,  his  too-eager 
hands  making  sad  work  of  his  dressing. 

He  heard  his  mother's  exclamations  of  alarm,  and 
his  father's  replies  to  calm  her  ;  and  without,  echoed 
the  feet  of  running  men,  the  cries :  "  Fire !  Fire ! 
Fire ! "  and  the  doleful  rise  and  fall  of  the  water- 
works whistle. 

His  father  rushed  heavily  down  the  front  stairs, 
and  the  door  slammed  behind  him. 

Ned,  his  clothing  only  half  fixed,  instantly  followed. 
As  he  flew  through  the  back  hall  he  glimpsed  Mag- 
gie, wringing  her  hands,  quite  beside  herself  with 
grief  and  fright. 

"  Oh,  Neddie  !  "  said  his  mother,  whom  he  passed 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  her  hands  filled  with  valu- 
ables. 

He  did  not  reply,  but  dashed  down,  and  out  of  the 
back  door. 

The  whole  west  end  of  the  barn,  joining  the  wood- 
shed, was  blazing.  His  father  was  already  attacking 


250  Beaufort  Chums 

the  sliding  carriage-door  (fastened  from  within),  with 
an  ax,  while  a  little  group  of  spectators,  anxious  to 
help,  stood  about  him. 

"  Where's  the  key  to  this  ?  "  demanded  a  man,  who 
was  tugging  at  the  padlock  of  the  smaller  single  door. 

"  Under  the  step — I'll  find  it ! "  gasped  Ned,  stoop- 
ing and  groping  in  front  of  the  sill. 

The  key  had  slipped  into  a  crack,  but  he  drew  it 
out,  and  put  it  to  the  padlock. 

"  Bob  !  Here,  Bob  !  Here,  Bob  !  "  opening  the 
door,  he  shouted,  up  the  loft  stairs  just  before  him. 

At  his  words  the  flames  and  smoke  sucked  down 
upon  him,  nearly  stifling  him. 

"Bob!  Here,  Bob!  Here,  Bob!"  he  hallooed 
again. 

But  no  Bob.  With  a  sob  in  his  throat  Ned  sprang 
across  the  threshold,  only  to  be  seized  from  behind 
and  dragged  back,  while  the  flames,  disappointed, 
licked  after  him  into  the  outer  air. 

"  You  little  fool — are  you  trying  to  kill  yourself?" 
roughly  asked  the  man,  holding  him  tight. 

"  But  my  dog's  in  there !  "  cried  Ned,  straining  to 
break  away.  «  Here,  Bob  !  Here,  Bob  !  "  he  called. 

"  He's  a  goner,  then,"  declared  the  man.  "  Don't 
you  see  ?  The  whole  loft's  ablaze  ! " 

M  Y-y-yes,  I  see,"  quavered  Ned,  growing  limp  with 
a  sense  of  the  awful  thing  that  had  happened.  Oh, 
Bob,  Bob,  Bob ! 

He  ceased  his  efforts  to  be  free,  and  the  man  re- 
leased him. 


The  Last  of  Bob  251 

In  the  meantime  Mr.  Miller's  blows  had  splintered 
a  hole  so  that  he  was  enabled  to  reach  in  and  lift  the 
hook.  The  sliding  door  crashed  open,  and  in 
through  the  smoke  he  dashed,  seized  the  buggy  by 
the  rear  axles,  and  dragged  it  into  the  yard.  Its  var- 
nish was  blistering  from  the  heat. 

Time  for  rescuing  anything  else  was  not  given.  In 
a  fierce  tide  a  torrent  of  blaze  from  the  burning  hay 
above  poured  out  between  the  warping  boards,  and 
bending  inward  with  the  draft  filled  the  doorway. 
Through  the  barn,  top  to  bottom,  ravaged  the  fire- 
giant  with  his  flaming  sword. 

Still  the  water-works  whistle  was  tooting  and  yod- 
ling,  but  not  a  hose  cart  had  arrived.  The  crowd 
was  growing  rapidly,  for  the  fire,  fed  by  a  ton  of  hay, 
and  a  quantity  of  grain,  was  lighting  up  the  vicinity 
for  blocks.  There  was  a  constant  volley  of  queries 
about  the  hose-companies,  and  a  constant  gazing 
down  street  for  some  sign  of  their  coming ;  Mr.  Miller 
was  in  despair ;  but  no  cart  was  yet  on  hand. 

The  kitchen  gable  was  beginning  to  smoke.  Ned 
hurriedly  coupled  the  garden  hose  to  the  faucet  set 
in  the  foundation  of  the  house,  and  turned  the  nozzle 
upon  the  scorching  paint.  The  stream  appeared 
ridiculously  small,  and  was  bent  and  shattered  by  the 
storm  of  inrushing  air. 

Mr.  Miller  crawled  through  a  second-story  window 
above  the  kitchen  roof,  and  hung  a  coverlet,  hastily 
jerked  from  a  bed  and  soaked  with  water,  over  the 
gable  where  the  heat  seemed  worst.  A  line  of  men 


2  £2  Beaufort  Chums 

was  formed  from  the  pump  and  from  the  kitchen 
sink,  up  the  back  stairs,  and  passed  buckets  of  water 
out  to  him.  These  he  emptied  over  the  coverlet,  and 
here  and  there  over  the  shingles. 

Below,  inside,  were  Maggie  and  Mrs.  Miller,  the 
one  naturally  as  strong  as  any  man,  the  other  nerved, 
by  the  crisis,  to  unusual  strength,  standing  at  the 
faucets  of  the  sink  and  filling  pails,  pitchers,  wash 
pans,  anything  that  might  serve  to  supply  the  line  of 
men. 

Outside,  with  the  fire  baking  him,  behind,  and  the 
spray  from  the  nozzle  drenching  him,  in  front,  Ned 
valiantly  plied  his  stream.  On  a  sudden  it  died 
away  to  a  mere  trickle.  The  hose,  under  the  in- 
creased pressure  put  on  by  the  water-works,  had 
burst. 

Ned  dropped  the  nozzle.  At  the  same  instant  a 
chorus  of  shouts  arose,  and  a  score  of  hands  were  up- 
stretched,  pointing  at  a  spot  where,  eight  feet  above 
the  kitchen  roof,  under  the  exposed  gable-peak  of 
the  main  portion  of  the  house  a  flicker  of  flame  was 
licking  along. 

Mr.  Miller,  bareheaded,  his  eyebrows  and  hair 
singed  by  the  waves  of  heat,  from  his  position  upon 
the  sloping  roof  of  the  kitchen,  heard  the  cries  of 
warning,  and  saw  the  blaze  which  had  passed  his  de- 
fenses, and  was  in  his  rear.  But  in  vain  he  dashed 
water  at  it.  Protected  as  it  was  by  the  overhanging 
eaves,  and  occupying  a  place  awkward  for  him  to 
reach,  it  resisted  all  his  efforts. 


ALL  HE  COULD  DO  WAS  TO  LEAN  OVER  AND  DASH  THE  WATER 

UNDER  THE    EAVES. 


The  Last  of  Bob  253 

"  Climb  up  with  a  rope ! "  yelled  some  voices. 

"Get  a  ladder!  A  ladder's  the  thing!"  yelled 
others. 

But  nobody  seemed  able  to  find  rope  or  ladder,  and 
the  flame  continued  to  grow. 

Ned  shot  through  the  kitchen  and  up  the  front 
stairs.  He  bolted  into  his  room — it  was  hot  as  a 
furnace,  poor  little  room ! — and  snatching  his  ball  of 
trot-line  from  the  drawer  where  it  had  lain  nearly  a 
year,  bolted  out  again.  He  scrambled  through  the 
open  window  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Miller's  bedchamber, 
and  running  along  the  roof  of  the  front  porch  shinned 
up  the  water-spout  and  was  upon  the  house-top.  He 
scaled  the  steep  slant,  and  now,  balanced  astride  the 
peak,  shuffled  toward  the  farther  end.  The  crowd 
saw  him,  and  cheered. 

In  a  moment  his  astonished  father  beheld  him 
perched  on  the  burning  gable. 

"  Ned  !     Go  down,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Miller. 

Ned  wasted  no  time  in  arguing. 

"  Tie  a  bucket  or  something  on  this,"  he  called, 
lowering  his  trot-line  as  he  unwound  it. 

Mr.  Miller  grabbed  a  small  tin  pail  which  was  just 
being  passed  out  to  him,  and  fastened  it  to  the 
dangling  cord.  With  the  water  splashing  from  it 
Ned  hauled  it  up,  and  the  crowd  of  spectators 
watched,  breathless. 

All  he  could  do  was  to  lean  over  as  far  as  he  dared 
and  dash  its  contents  up  under  the  eaves  ;  a  groan 
from  the  watchers  told  him  that  he  had  done  no 


254  Beaufort  Chums 

good.  Although  attacked  from  above  and  below, 
the  tiny  blaze  lived  on. 

The  fire  had  spread  from  the  Miller  barn  westward, 
and  by  means  of  the  on-stretching  sheds  was  eating 
its  way,  rod  by  rod.  The  Millers'  next  door  neigh- 
bors, on  the  west,  were  battling  stoutly,  with  garden 
hose  and  buckets,  and  the  structures  across  the  alley 
had  caught. 

These  were  low  sheds,  and  not  barns,  so  that  the 
houses  were  not  apt  to  catch.  The  Miller  house  was 
the  only  one  that  seemed  doomed.  Try  as  they 
might,  neither  Ned  nor  his  father  nor  other  eager 
helpers  could  put  out  that  steady  flame  under  the 
eaves ;  and  now  the  kitchen  eaves,  also,  were  smok- 
ing and  smouldering  in  a  dozen  places.  The  kitchen 
roof  was  getting  so  slippery  that  Mr.  Miller  could 
hardly  move  about  on  it. 

"  Clang !  Clang !  Clang ! "  The  approach  of 
succor  faintly  fell  on  Ned's  ears.  The  hose-carts, 
at  last ! 

"  The  hose-carts !  They're  coming  now ! "  he 
shouted  to  his  father. 

"  The  hose-carts  !  There  come  the  hose-carts  !  " 
murmured  the  crowd  in  swiftly  increasing  tones. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  cheered  Ned,  scrambling  back  over 
the  roof  to  the  porch. 

"  Thank  God  ! "  sighed  Mr.  Miller ;  and  then  he 
could  not  refrain  from  adding,  as  he  had  a  right  to 
do,  the  mild  criticism :  "  And  it's  about  time  they 
came,  too." 


The  Last  of  Bob  255 

Indeed  it  was.  Down  the  dark  street,  shaded  by 
the  trees,  appeared  four  spots  of  light.  "  Clang ! 
Clang  !  Clang  !  "  louder  sounded  the  gongs — never 
a  more  welcome  sound.  With  tramp  of  feet  and 
hoarse  shouts  up  raced  the  rival  carts  of  the  Pole 
Star  and  Defiance  companies,  drawn  by  their 
volunteers,  and  unreeling  their  hose  as  they  came. 

With  a  crash  and  a  shower  of  sparks  the  loft  of 
the  barn  fell  in,  but  there  still  was  plenty  of  work  for 
the  two  floods  that  presently  gushed  from  the  fire 
nozzles.  Mr.  Miller  hastily  ducked  through  the 
window,  and  above  his  head  spattered  a  heavy 
stream  before  which  the  impudent  blaze  beneath 
the  main  gable  was  blotted  from  existence.  A  driv- 
ing deluge  swept  against  the  kitchen,  and  all  those 
little  flames  that  had  been  taxing  the  bucket  brigade 
vanished  in  a  twinkling. 

The  house  was  saved ;  but  seldom  house  had 
more  narrow  escape ! 

Ned,  climbing  in  again  from  the  porch,  had  pro- 
ceeded to  do  something  that  long  had  been  on  his 
mind.  His  loaded  shotgun  cartridges  !  Supposing 
the  house  should  burn  and  they  should  explode  and 
injure  people !  He  had  a  vague  notion  that  he 
would  be  liable  to  arrest  for  having  kept  powder 
around.  Besides,  he  did  not  want  anybody  to  be 
hurt.  So  he  groped  his  way  into  the  attic,  and 
piling  the  shells  in  his  arms  carried  them  down  and 
laid  them  under  the  front  steps.  Then  he  breathed 
easier. 


256  Beaufort  Chums 

He  found  that  his  care  had  been  needless.  The 
house  was  out  of  danger,  and  already  the  fire,  in  its 
march  from  shed  to  shed,  had  been  met  by  the 
nozzle-men  and  stayed  in  its  tracks.  Two  streams 
were  playing  on  the  barn,  their  water  hissing  among 
the  red-hot  embers.  Other  hose  companies  had 
arrived,  and  under  the  efforts  the  glare  of  a  few 
moments  before  had  sunk  to  a  fitful  glimmer. 

Mrs.  Miller  and  Maggie  turned  from  their  labors 
at  the  sink  to  the  gasoline  stove  and  made  a  huge 
bucket  of  coffee.  This  they  served  to  the  chilled, 
tired  members  of  the  bucket  brigade,  who  were  wet 
with  perspiration  as  well  as  with  splashes  from  the 
pails. 

Ned  now  found  time  to  recognize  in  the  throng 
of  helpers  and  onlookers  people  from  far  and  near. 
The  whole  town  was  there — and  had  come,  as  the 
funny  costumes  proved,  in  a  great  hurry. 

Hal  and  Tom  appeared  in  breathless  haste,  and 
sought  him  out,  and  condoled  with  him. 

"  It's  too  bad,  Ned,"  said  Hal.  "  But  I  don't  be- 
lieve that  even  if  the  hose  companies  had  got  here 
sooner  they  could  have  saved  the  barn.  That  hay 
made  an  awful  blaze." 

"  Why  didn't  they  come  sooner  ? "  demanded 
Ned. 

"  Why,  they  had  the  wrong  signal,"  explained 
Tom.  "  They  went  'way  off  in  North  Beaufort, 
and  then  they  saw  the  flames  and  turned  'round." 

"  Didn't  you  save  a  thing  ?  "  asked  Hal. 


The  Last  of  Bob  257 

"  Just  the  buggy,"  answered  Ned,  with  a  gulp  as 
heart-sickness  rose  in  his  throat. 

"  Oh,  pshaw ! "  exclaimed  the  two  boys,  their 
tones  expressing  much  more  of  sympathy  than  the 
mere  words  tell.  Ned  walked  away,  and  they 
kindly  let  him  alone. 

By  twos  and  threes  the  crowd  thinned  out.  There 
was  nothing  now  to  see.  Gradually,  as  the  need  for 
their  streams  ceased,  the  lines  of  hose  were  wound  on 
their  reels. 

Darkness  settled  over  the  scene. 

Before  going  to  bed  again  the  Millers  had  much  to 
do.  While  they  themselves,  with  other  fire-fighters, 
had  been  busy  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  a  swarm  of 
eager  townsmen  had  been  invading  the  front  part, 
and  lugging  out  everything  movable  upon  which 
they  might  lay  hands.  Chairs,  books,  sofa,  pictures, 
rugs, — all  had  been  hurriedly  borne  across  the  street 
and  piled  in  a  heap. 

Even  carpets  had  been  pulled  from  the  floors,  and 
bundled  into  the  outer  air. 

On  the  top  of  the  pile  sat,  as  if  on  his  own 
quarter-deck,  Commodore  Jones.  The  commodore 
might  be  styled  as  in  undress  uniform ;  slippers, 
trousers,  and  a  red  bandanna  to  keep  the  night 
damp  from  creeping  down  the  neck  of  his  night- 
shirt forming  his  outer  costume. 

"  Who  is  it  ? "  asked  Mr.  Miller,  peering  up  at 
him,  through  the  dusk. 

"  Oh,  it's  only  Jones.     I  was  kinder  keepin'  an 


258  Beaufort  Chums 

eye*  on  these  things  o'  yourn,"  wheezed  the  com- 
modore, carefully  descending. 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  we're  much  obliged,  commodore," 
said  Mr.  Miller,  knowing  the  voice. 

"  You  see,"  exclaimed  the  commodore,  "  I  looked 
out  o'  my  winder,  and  I  thought  this  whole  end  of 
town  must  be  burnin'.  An'  after  I'd  got  started,  I 
heared  it  was  your  barn  an'  house,  an'  I  reckoned  I'd 
come  on  an'  lend  a  hand.  An'  bein'  as  I  can't  stand 
a  wettin'  I  thought  I'd  mount  guard  over  your 
truck,  here.  I've  been  burned  out,  myself,  an'  I 
know  how  more  things  are  lost  by  bein'  stole  an' 
damaged  than  by  the  fire  itself." 

"  It  wasn't  necessary,  quite,  to  carry  out  so  much," 
observed  Mr.  Miller,  surveying,  as  best  he  could,  the 
heap  of  goods. 

"  They  was  a  leetle  premature,  that's  a  fact,"  agreed 
the  commodore.  "  It's  a  pity  you  ain't  goin'  to 
move ;  you've  got  a  fine  start  at  it." 

With  the  aid  of  the  commodore  and  a  few  neigh- 
bors the  Millers  placed  their  household  furnishings 
back  under  cover.  Ned  carried  his  cartridges  in- 
doors, again.  Mrs.  Miller  declared  that  she  could 
not  sleep  with  her  kitchen  in  such  shape — the  floor 
one  big  puddle  and  streaked  with  mud — and  she  and 
Maggie  went  at  it  with  mop  and  broom.  They  not 
only  cleaned  the  floor,  but  also  the  porch  and  the 
back  stairs,  which  were  wet  from  top  to  bottom  with 
the  overflow  from  the  pails  and  pans. 

This  done,  the  Miller  household  retired  to  resume 


The  Last  of  Bob  259 

its  broken  slumbers.  But  during  the  rest  of  the 
night  Ned,  for  his  part,  slumbered  only  by  snatches, 
now  thinking  that  he  smelled  smoke  from  some  fire 
anew,  and  now  thinking  that  he  heard  Bob  appealing 
to  him.  Several  times  he  found  his  pillow  wet  with 
tears,  despite  his  efforts  to  shut  them  back. 

At  last  he  gave  way,  and  blubbered  well  in 
the  dark,  while  he  moaned:  "Bob!  Dear  old 
Bob!" 

Nevertheless,  all  the  time  in  his  breast  was  a  faint 
hope  that  perhaps,  by  hook  or  crook,  Bob  was  liv- 
ing. It  did  not  seem  possible  that  he  should  be 
dead — gone  forever. 

However,  in  the  morning  the  insurance  men, 
poking  among  the  ruins,  found  him.  He  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  charred  hay.  The  flames  had  scarcely 
touched  him,  and  Mr.  Miller  said  that  a  painless  death 
by  the  thick  smoke  had  come  upon  him  in  his  bur- 
row without  his  ever  waking. 

Ned  was  glad  to  believe  it,  and  was  happier.  He 
took  only  one  look  at  the  still  body  of  his  faithful, 
loyal  chum,  and  walked  away  across  the  desolated 
yard,  scarred  and  marred  by  the  midnight  events. 
He  noted  naught  of  this  desolation  without,  for  his 
eyes  were  brimming,  and  within,  around  his  heart, 
reigned  a  greater  desolation. 

Later,  where  the  horse's  stall  had  been,  were  found 
four  horseshoes — these,  and  nothing  more.  Yet  the 
fate  of  Fanny  appeared  to  Ned  as  nothing,  beside 
the  fate  of  Bob. 


260  Beaufort  Chums 

He  went  to  school,  as  usual.  Zu-zu  came  running 
up  to  him. 

«  Oh,  Ned  !     Is  Bob  really  dead  ?  " 

Ned  nodded.  Whereupon  Zu-zu  burst  into  tears 
and  fled  up  the  school  steps,  into  the  shelter  of  the 
hall. 

Ned  wished  that  for  the  moment  he,  too,  were  a 
girl,  so  that  he  might  act  as  he  felt. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  RAID  THAT  FAILED 

WOOD-PILING  time  had  come  again.     It 
found  a  new  barn  and  a  new  shed  already 
standing,  in  place  of  the  old  ones,  upon 
the  Miller  premises.     The  scorched  house  had  been 
repainted    and   the   blistered   buggy   had   been   re- 
varnished.     Thus  far  the  damage  by  the  fire  had 
been  made  good.     But  here  the  work  must  stop,  for 
no  new  Bob  could  fill  the  place  of  the  old  Bob. 

Bob  had  long  been  put  away ;  still  Ned  often 
dreamed  of  him,  and  while  knowing  that  such  a 
thing  was  impossible,  was  always  expecting  to  meet 
him,  suddenly,  around  some  corner.  No  other  dog 
would  Ned  have,  although  his  father  told  him  to  get 
whatever  kind  he  chose.  To  Bob — faithful,  human 
Bob, — there  could  be  no  second. 

The  long  vacation  had  begun,  and  Ned  was  making 
his  morning  attack  upon  his  eleven  loads  of  slabs — 
that  annual  visitation  to  which  he  was  subjected — 
when  he  heard  a  familiar  whistle,  answered  it  ac- 
cording to  the  code,  and  presently  saw  Hal  climb  over 
the  alley  fence. 

"  Hello,"  greeted  Hal.     "  Got  to  work  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ned,  gloomily.  "  Just  look  at  the 
wood,  will  you !" 

261 


262  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Want  to  know  something?"  queried  Hal — news 
fairly  sticking  out  all  over  him.  "  Well,  listen  here. 
What  do  you  suppose  old  Belton  has  got  planted 
'way  off  behind  his  house !  Watermelons  !  " 

He  paused  in  order  to  give  his  audience  time  to 
swallow  the  startling  fact. 

"  Whereabouts  ?  "  asked  Ned,  delight  in  his  tone. 

"  Near  the  ravine,  beyond  the  grapes,"  answered 
Hal.  "  He  thinks  he  has  them  hid,  I  guess ;  but  I 
ran  slap  into  them  yesterday  when  I  was  taking  a 
short  cut  to  the  creek.  Come  on,  and  I'll  show 
you." 

"  I  can't  come  now,"  said  Ned,  slowly.  "  I've  got 
to  pile  wood  till  noon.  But  I'll  go  with  you  right 
away  after  dinner." 

"  Well,  you  come  around,  then,"  agreed  Hal. 

Squire  Helton's  "  place,"  at  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  was  a  standing  challenge,  for  half  the  year,  at 
least,  to  the  Beaufort  youth.  Of  course,  the  squire 
was  only  prudent  in  guarding  his  fruit  as  he  did. 
He  grew  fruit  to  sell,  not  to  donate  to  greedy  boys. 
But  they  regarded  him  as  a  cantankerous,  mean  old 
codger,  and  perfectly  lawful  prey. 

It  was  very  tantalizing  to  trudge  along  the  dusty 
road,  on  a  day  of  late  August,  and  to  gaze  helplessly 
at  those  trees  laden  with  their  delicious,  beckoning 
apples  !  However,  the  squire's  big  white  house  com- 
manded this  orchard,  and  its  windows  were  ever 
staring,  and  the  squire  himself  or  some  of  his  family 
never  failed  to  catch  the  least  wavering  from  the 


The  Raid  That  Failed  263 

straight  path  of  honesty — in  this  case  the  path  out- 
side the  orchard  fence. 

In  addition,  the  barbed  wires  of  the  fence  were 
close  together,  and  as  tight  as  fiddle-strings — ugly 
things  to  scale  when  the  squire's  vigorous  yellow  dog 
was  coming  full  tilt. 

There  were  grapes,  too;  and  these  were  on  the 
slope,  facing  the  house,  and  in  plain  sight  from  the 
porch  and  sitting-room. 

Orchard  and  vineyard  stayed  proof  against  nearly 
all  plots  and  attacks.  But  now,  thanks  to  Hal's 
"  short  cut,"  for  two  Beauforters,  anyway,  a  new 
field  of  action  was  opened. 

Hurrah  for  the  melon-patch ! 

His  mind  filled  with  the  bright  prospect,  Ned  gob- 
bled a  hasty  dinner,  and  made  a  bee-line  for  Hal's 
house. 

Together  they  took  their  way  to  the  limits  of 
town,  and  cunningly  made  a  circuit  of  the  Belton 
premises  until  safe  from  those  prying,  alert  windows 
and  the  ever  watchful  yellow  dog.  Then  Hal  led  his 
companion  into  the  ravine  that  pierced  the  squire's 
lands.  Amidst  a  jungle  of  undergrowth  they  worked 
a  course,  and  when  Hal  gave  the  word  warily  mounted 
the  flank. 

"There  !  "  said  Hal,  when  they  had  gained  the  crest. 

In  front  of  them  lay  a  small,  secluded  area  of  low 
vines,  with  every  few  feet  a  smooth,  green  oval 
showing  itself — peaceful  promise  of  a  fine  feast  to 
come. 


264  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Isn't  this  luck  !  "  whispered  Hal. 

"  Say  ! "  sighed  Ned,  overcome  by  his  feelings. 

Having  surveyed,  they  beat  a  crafty  retreat.  So 
very  cautious  were  they,  that  on  their  way  home 
they  scarce  even  dared  discuss  the  find.  It  seemed 
too  good  to  be  true,  and  might  vanish. 

That  evening,  when  at  supper  Mr.  Miller  remarked 
that  an  extraordinary  crop  of  melons  was  in  view, 
Ned  was  so  startled  that  he  dropped  his  knife.  Yet 
his  father's  words  had  no  reference  at  all  to  Squire 
Belton ! 

As  the  days  passed  Ned  and  Hal  made  regular  visits 
to  the  melon-patch.  When  speaking  of  the  patch,  so 
careful  were  they  that  they  always  said  "  it,"  and 
by  "  it "  each  knew  what  the  other  meant.  Thirty 
yards  was  the  nearest  that  they  ventured  to  "  it," 
since  this  was  the  space  separating  "  it "  from  the 
ravine.  They  kept  their  secret  to  themselves,  deem- 
ing that  they  could  manage  the  raid — and  the  melons 
— without  help.  Ned  wanted  to  let  Tom  in,  but  Hal 
thought  that  two  was  enough,  and  inasmuch  as  the 
patch  was  his  by  reason  of  discovery,  Ned  could  only 
yield. 

Week  by  week  the  melons  swelled.  The  exact 
time  for  making  closer  acquaintance  with  them 
was  hard  to  decide  upon.  The  raid  must  not  be 
too  early,  and  on  the  other  hand  there  was  danger 
that  it  might  be  too  late.  Finally,  Ned  and  Hal 
could  no  longer  stand  it.  Melons  were  beginning 
to  appear  in  market.  The  moment  for  action  had  come. 


The  Raid  That  Failed  265 

The  boys  chose  a  Tuesday  night  as  the  date  for 
the  attack.  Ned  invited  Hal  over  to  spend  the  even- 
ing at  his  house,  and  to  sleep  there.  As  this  was 
nothing  out  of  the  way,  it  drew  no  suspicion. 

They  retired  early  up-stairs,  the  better  to  talk. 
They  simply  had  to  talk,  or  they  would  have  ex- 
ploded. About  ten  o'clock,  when  the  household 
was  quiet  and  abed,  they  climbed  out  of  the  window 
of  Ned's  room,  scampered  softly  in  their  stockinged 
feet  across  the  sloping  roof  of  the  little  side  porch, 
lowered  themselves  to  the  ground,  hurriedly  put  on 
their  shoes,  scurried  for  the  back  fence,  vaulted  it, 
and  at  last  were  safely  in  the  protecting  alley. 

There  was  no  moon,  and,  old  woodsmen  though 
they  were,  their  way  seemed  to  get  all  mixed  up,  full 
of  sticks  and  cans  and  holes  and  hillocks.  Even  in 
the  most  open  road  they  were  continually  stepping 
on  things  that  snapped  or  clattered,  and  they  imagined 
that  the  whole  country  around-about  must  be  aroused 
by  the  noise ! 

Faint  in  the  distance,  or  near  at  hand,  barked 
dogs  of  farmyard  and  town-yard.  An  owl  hooted 
in  an  accusing  tone,  and  Pete,  Deacon  Rogers'  vener- 
able clay-colored  horse,  from  his  pasture  wheezed  at 
them  through  the  misty  blackness. 

"  What's  that !  "  exclaimed  Hal,  huskily,  startled ; 
and  Ned,  too,  jumped  at  the  sound. 

Had  they  not  been  setting  out  to  "  hook  "  melons, 
they  might  have  been  braver.  A  nagging  conscience 
is  a  bad  escort,  especially  on  a  dark  night ! 


i66  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Where  were  you  fellows  ?  Who  told  you  about 
it  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Why,  we  were  going  ahead  coasting,"  explained 
Hal.  "  Zu-zu  was  the  one  who  told  us,  and  then  we 
came  lickity-split." 

"Bully  for  Zu-zu!"  exclaimed  Ned.  "She's  a 
dandy ! " 

"  I  had  to  run  all  the  way  up  hill,"  said  Zu-zu, 
modestly,  just  arriving. 

"  Well,  I'll  remember  you,  all  right,  for  it,"  prom- 
ised Ned.  "  I'll  give  you  ducks'  wings  till  you  can't 
rest." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  do  it  for  that ! "  cried  Zu-zu,  skip- 
ping off. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  home,  Ned  ?  "  inquired  Hal, 
tenderly. 

"  No,  of  course  not,"  declared  Ned.  "  I'm  going 
to  slide  some  more.  It'll  take  more  than  a  black 
eye  to  get  me  off  this  hill !  " 

And  during  this  recent  fracas,  what  of  Bob — Bob, 
who  brought  on  the  fray  ?  The  rule  of  romance  de- 
mands that  he  should  have  launched  himself  to  Ned's 
aid,  and  put  the  enemy  to  flight  with  his  teeth.  But 
no  ;  this  history  must  take  a  different  course.  Twice 
kicked  by  heavy  boots,  to  which  he  had  done  no 
wrong ;  trampled  upon  by  many  feet,  and  thrust 
aside  by  many  legs,  quite  regardless  of  the  plight  into 
which  he  had  forced  his  master,  he  had  turned  tail 
and  had  trotted  for  home. 

In  his  own  mind,  he  had  been  sorely  abused ;  and 


The  Trouble  at  Breede's  Hill         167 

with  the  spirits  taken  out  of  him  by  the  ill-treatment, 
he  made  straight  for  shelter. 

When  his  master  appeared,  with  eye  now  sur- 
rounded by  a  blue-black  mat,  Bob,  never  considering 
it,  seemed  to  think  that  himself,  and  not  Ned,  had 
been  the  sufferer. 


268  Beaufort  Chums 

low  dog.  Off  to  the  left  they  dashed,  dimly  believ- 
ing that  they  were  heading  for  the  ravine. 

"  Look  out  for  the  barbed  wire !  "  gasped  Hal. 

But  they  met  with  no  fence,  where  they  expected. 
Crunch,  crash,  stumble  and  plunge,  through  the  vines, 
out  from  the  vines,  and  into  a  clump  of  raspberry 
bushes!  Cracky!  How  those  bushes  punished 
them !  Yet  on  they  ploughed,  each  for  himself, 
Ned  clasping  his  melon,  and  the  yellow  dog  yelping 
in  their  wake. 

Out  from  amidst  the  raspberries — and  suddenly 
Ned  was  hurled  backward  for  a  complete  somersault ! 
A  wire  fence,  fortunately  not  barbed,  had  caught 
him  fiercely,  raising  a  huge  welt  across  his  chest  and 
another  across  his  knees. 

"  Hurt  you  ?  "  panted  Hal,  alarmed,  bringing  up 
just  in  time. 

"  Not  much,"  panted  Ned. 

With  a  rush  they  overcame  the  fence.  Their  hope 
lay  in  motion  on  and  on,  until  that  dog  was  sately 
behind. 

"Bow-wow-wow-wow!   Wow!    Wow-wow-wow!" 

He  was  hard  at  their  heels.  Gallant  old  fellow,  no 
doubt  he  enjoyed  many  a  hearty  laugh  over  it  all. 

Hello  !  The  vineyard  !  They  had  actually  been 
running  toward  the  house,  instead  of  away  from  it. 
No  wonder  the  dog  was  so  excited. 

Ned  was  a  few  feet  in  advance — a  credit  to  his 
fleetness,  but  not  to  his  courage — and  in  trying  to 
tack  and  veer  in  a  new  direction  he  slipped,  fell,  and 


The  Raid  That  Failed  269 

rolled  down  the  slope,  staying  not  for  stalk  nor  trellis, 
clear  to  the  bottom. 

"  And  Jill  (or  Hal)  came  tumbling  after !  " 

Still  Ned  clung  to  his  precious  melon,  which  by  a 
succession  of  miracles  was  yet  unbroken ! 

With  a  thump  they  landed  in  the  dry  ditch  that 
cut  along  the  foot  of  the  vineyard.  They  vaulted  the 
board  fence  just  beyond,  noting,  at  the  same  moment, 
that  a  light  was  glimmering  in  the  upper  story  of  the 
Belton  house.  Evidently  the  dog's  clamor  had  been 
heard. 

The  house  was  too  close  for  comfort, but  it  gave  them 
their  bearings.  Only  a  stretch  of  level  pasture  now 
remained  between  them  and  the  road. 

"  Almost  there  !     Keep  going  !  "  urged  Ned. 

"Bow-wow-wow!  Bow-wow!  Wow-wow!  Wow!" 
bellowed  their  pursuer. 

They  imagined  that  they  could  feel  his  hot  breath 
through  the  holes  in  their  trousers.  Hit  or  miss, 
they  scaled  the  final  fence — this  time  a  vicious  barbed 
wire  thing  which  took  tribute  in  the  shape  of  both 
cloth  and  flesh — and  for  dear  life  pattered  down  the 
welcome  road. 

Towser's  voice  became  subdued  by  distance. 
Looking  over  their  shoulders  they  saw  the  flicker  of 
a  lantern  upon  the  squire's  front  porch.  They  slack- 
ened their  pace  to  a  rapid  walk. 

"  Jiminy ! "  puffed  Hal.  "  Didn't  we  track  it, 
though  !  The  dog  couldn't  catch  us  ! " 

"  I've  got  a  melon ! "  wheezed  Ned. 


2 jo  Beaufort  Chums 

"  Bully  for  you  !  "  praised  Hal.     "  Let's  feel." 

"  It's  awful  rough — it  must  be  a  musk-melon,"  he 
said,  caressing  it  with  eager  fingers.  "  Smell  it." 

Ned  obeyed. 

"  Well,  it  doesn't  smell  very  musky,"  he  muttered, 
doubtfully. 

"  I  guess  perhaps  it's  a  watermelon,"  declared  Hal. 
"  But  either  way  it's  all  right.  What's  the  matter 
with  eating  it  now  ?  Nobody'll  follow  us  this 
far." 

"  That's  a  go,"  agreed  Ned.  "  I'm  dead  tired," 
and  at  once  turning  aside,  with  a  grunt  of  relief  he 
threw  himself  upon  the  grass  by  the  hedge  that 
skirted  the  road. 

Hal  lost  no  time  in  copying  his  example. 

Mellowed  by  the  damp  night  air,  from  the  scene 
of  the  late  hostilities  floated  to  them  the  fitful  voice 
of  the  yellow  dog,  as  he  continued  to  tell  his  family 
all  about  it.  Of  course  he  made  out  to  them  that 
the  boys  were  a  band  of  determined  robbers,  whom 
he  had  surprised  and  put  to  flight. 

The  moon,  just  rising,  was  shedding  an  uncertain 
light  over  the  landscape. 

"  Slice  her  open,"  suggested  Hal — referring  to  the 
melon,  not  to  the  moon. 

Already  Ned  was  fumbling  with  a  battered  jack- 
knife,  trying  to  divide  the  prize  in  a  scientific  fashion, 
so  as  to  give  each  some  of  the  heart. 

It  was  a  mighty  tough  rind.  Could  the  melon  be 
green,  after  all !  He  worked  as  rapidly  as  he  could, 


The  Raid  That  Failed  271 

considering  the  poor  light,  and  the  impatient  remarks 
of  Hal,  who  was  getting  thirstier  and  thirstier. 

Victory !  He  managed  to  stick  his  ringers  in  a 
crack,  and  with  a  tug  pulled  the  stubborn  mass  apart. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  passing  Hal  a  chunk. 

He  himself  took  the  mate  to  it,  and  carried  to  his 
mouth  a  handful  of  the  spongy,  stringy  stuff. 

The  melon  had  not  felt  precisely  right — and  cer- 
tainly it  did  not  taste  precisely  right ! 

"  Faugh  !  "  exclaimed  Hal. 

"  Wa-a-a-a  !  "  exclaimed  Ned. 

How  they  sputtered  !     Their  melon  was  a  squash  ! 

Words  cannot  express  their  disgust.  They  had 
missed  the  melon-patch  entirely.  All  that  trouble 
for  only  a  squash  !  And  now  their  chances  had  been 
ruined.  The  squire  would  be  on  his  guard. 

"  Come  on — let's  go  home,"  blurted  Ned ;  and  the 
two  stiffly  stood  up.  Stiffly  it  was,  indeed,  for  their 
spirits  had  been  most  effectually  "  squashed,"  and 
they  began  to  be  conscious  of  tokens  of  their  recent 
flight.  They  were  drenched  with  dew.  Every  inch 
of  their  bodies  and  faces  and  hands  smarted  and 
ached  from  the  briars  and  collisions  with  posts,  wires, 
sticks  and  stones.  Their  heads  throbbed.  They 
were  cold,  hungry,  and  completely  fagged.  They 
wished  they  were  in  bed. 

Speaking  scarcely  another  syllable  they  dragged 
their  heavy  feet  along  the  well-nigh  endless  mile  of 
homeward  journey.  As  they  entered  the  alley  the 
town  clock  chimed  twelve. 


272  Beaufort  Chums 

They  scrambled  over  the  fence,  shinned  up  the 
porch — so  tuckered  that  they  did  not  care  whether 
or  not  they  made  any  noise — and  tumbled  across  the 
bed.  Such  a  soft,  soothing  bed  as  that  was  !  Feebly 
they  started  to  undress  as  they  lay,  but  they  did  no 
more  than  kick  off  their  shoes,  and  were  asleep. 

They  slept  like  logs,  until  awakened  by  the  rising- 
bell.  Quite  in  vain  would  they  make  themselves 
respectable,  although  they  tried  their  level  best.  All 
their  scrubbings  and  brushings  and  pinnings  really 
seemed  to  improve  their  appearance  not  one  whit. 
The  raspberry  bushes  and  the  barbed  wire  had  been 
too  thorough.  Court-plaster,  rather  than  pins,  was 
needed. 

They  were  late  to  breakfast ;  and  this  enabled  them 
to  escape  the  keen  eyes  of  Ned's  father,  who,  having 
been  a  boy,  would  know  I 

However,  Mrs.  Miller — thoughtful  mother — was 
waiting  for  them. 

"Goodness,  boys  !  What  have  you  been  up  to?" 
she  cried,  as  they  neared  the  table. 

It  might  have  been  the  scratches ;  it  might  have 
been  the  clothes ;  probably  it  was  both. 

"  Oh,  we  fell  down,"  answered  Ned,  sheepishly. 

His  mother  scanned  him  sharply,  but  made  no 
farther  remark ;  nevertheless,  Ned  suspected  that  the 
end  was  not  yet. 

Squire  Belton,  or  his  yellow  dog,  must  have  talked 
around  town,  so  that  certain  fathers  heard ;  and  cer- 
tain mothers,  having  patched  and  darned  some  sadly- 


The  Raid  That  Failed  273 

abused  garments,  must   have   exchanged   notes,  as 
mothers  will :  at  any  rate,  in  a  day  or  two  the  Miller 
family — save  Ned — had  watermelon  for  dessert,  but 
Ned's  dessert  was  a  huge  piece  of  raw  squash  ! 
And  Hal  reported  exactly  the  same  treatment. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
CHANGES 

THUS  passed  the  days  in  Beaufort ;  very  good 
days  they  were,  too,  taking  them  all  in  all. 
But  they  could  not  go  on  forever ;  in  human 
experience  nothing — not  even  eleven  loads  of  wood — 
lasts  forever,  and  suddenly  Ned  found  himself  on  the 
brink  of  a  change  greater  than  his  other  greatest 
one  :  the  loss  of  Bob,  now  a  year  back. 

For  some  time  it  had  seemed  to  him  that  his  father 
and  mother  were  sharing  a  secret  between  them,  and 
keeping  him  out  in  the  cold.  They  would  be  talking, 
and  when  he  drew  near  they  would  stop,  with  a 
glance  from  one  to  the  other  that  said :  "  Look  out ! " 
If  he  hung  around  for  quite  a  while  after  he  had  made 
them  do  this,  he  would  be  sent  off  on  an  errand ;  and 
once  his  father  had  even  said,  frankly :  "  Ned,  boy, 
run  away.  Your  mother  and  I  want  to  talk  about 
something." 

The  idea ! 

It  could  not  be  about  Christmas,  for  Christmas 
was  eight  months  ahead.  And  it  could  not  be  about 
his  birthday,  for  his  birthday  had  just  been.  And  it 
could  not  be  about  another  dog,  for  he  would  not 
have  another  dog — ever !  Then  what  was  it  about  ? 
He  felt  abused,  as  well  as  excited. 

274 


Changes  275 

"  Ned,  how  would  you  like  to  leave  Beaufort  ? " 
asked  his  father,  abruptly,  one  evening,  at  the  supper- 
table. 

"  Leave  Beaufort !  "  repeated  Ned,  astonished. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  mother.     "  Move  away,  you  know." 

"  For  good  ?     Where  to  ?  "  demanded  Ned,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  probably  for  good ;  not  for  bad,  let  us 
hope,"  replied  his  father,  answering  his  first. 

"  To  Chicago,"  replied  his  mother,  answering  his 
second. 

"  Will  we  take  Maggie?  "  stammered  Ned,  with  an 
eye  to  the  pantry  supplies. 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  that  isn't  the  point,"  said  his 
father — although  Ned  thought  it  a  very  important 
point,  indeed.  "  The  point  is,  would  you  like 
to  go?" 

"  I'd  hate  to  leave  the  river,  and — and  everything," 
faltered  Ned. 

"  But  you'll  have  Lake  Michigan,  instead,"  spoke 
his  mother. 

"Tom  and  Hal  and  the  other  fellows  won't  be 
there,"  objected  Ned. 

"  They  can  come  to  see  you,"  explained  his  mother. 
"And  you'll  pick  up  lots  of  new  friends.  Why,  the 
parks  are  full  of  boys  !  " 

"  Having  fun  ?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Yes  ;  baseball  and  all  kinds  of  games,  some  that 
you  never  saw,"  assured  his  mother. 

"  But  there  isn't  any  hunting,  is  there  ?  "  objected 
Ned.  "  I  want  to  hunt." 


276  Beaufort  Chums 

"  You  can  do  your  hunting  when  you  come  back 
to  Beaufort  to  visit,"  proposed  his  father. 

"  Can  I  take  the  scull-boat  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

"  No,  I  believe  you  had  better  leave  that  here," 
decided  his  father.  "  The  lake  has  yachts,  and  steam- 
ers running  across,  you  know " 

"  Out  of  sight  of  land  ? "  asked  Ned,  hopefully. 
"  Do  they  get  wrecked  ?  " 

"  W-well,  not  often,"  said  his  father.  "  But  they 
do  get  out  of  sight  of  land,  that's  sure." 

"  When  are  we  going  to  move  ?  "  demanded  Ned, 
now  all  ready  to  pack  up. 

"  About  the  middle  of  next  month,"  replied  his 
father. 

"  Then  I  won't  have  any  wood  to  pile ! "  cried 
Ned,  overjoyed. 

"  No,"  said  his  father,  laughing.  "  I  guess  we 
have  enough  to  last  us  through." 

So  they  were  really  to  move  away  from  Beaufort ! 
This  was  the  secret.  Ned  found  out  a  lot  of  things 
before  supper  was  finished,  and  as  soon  as  he  could 
he  rushed  out  to  tell.  He  went  up  to  Hal's — and 
Hal  was  tremendously  astounded.  Hal  and  he  went 
over  to  Tom's — and  Tom  was  astounded  tremen- 
dously. And  all  three  talked  at  once. 

"  My  folks  say  I  can  have  you  up  to  visit  me, 
right  away  as  soon  as  we  get  settled,"  announced 
Ned. 

"  I'll  come  if  I  can,"  agreed  Hal. 

"  So  will  I,  you  bet,"  agreed  Tom.     "  I've  never 


Changes  277 

been  in  Chicago — at  least,  since  I  was  big  enough  to 
remember." 

"  You  can  have  the  whole  scull-boat,  now,  Hal," 
said  Ned. 

"  I  don't  want  the  whole  of  it.  That  wouldn't 
be  fair.  You  can  take  it  with  you,"  proposed 
Hal. 

"  But  I  can't  take  it — and  that  wouldn't  be  fair, 
either,"  declared  Ned. 

"  I'll  tell  you  !  You  give  your  half  to  Tom  ! " 
cried  Hal. 

"  That's  so  !  "  exclaimed  Ned.  "  Good  idea,  Hal ! 
You  can  have  my  share,  Tom.  I'll  make  you  a 
present  of  it." 

"  Oh,  you're  fooling !  "  asserted  Tom,  staggered 
at  the  thought  of  owning  part  of  the  famous 
craft. 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  retorted  Ned.  "  You  can  have  it, 
truly  you  can." 

"  Sa-a-ay  !  "  gasped  Tom.  "  I  don't  know  how  I 
can  ever  pay  you  back " 

"  Oh,  shucks  !  "  scoffed  Ned.  "  Tisn't  anything. 
Besides,  Hal  thought  of  it  first.  He's  the  fellow  to 
thank." 

"  Well,"  said  Tom,  "  anyhow,  whenever  you  come 
around  and  want  it  you  can  have  it  again.  I'll  just 
keep  it  for  you." 

The  scull-boat  being  settled,  the  boys  chattered 
and  planned  about  other  things  ;  and  they  talked  as 
fast  and  as  excitedly  as  though  Ned  was  leaving  the 


278  Beaufort  Chums 

next  day,  instead  of  the  next  month.  So  much  had 
to  be  discussed  and  arranged. 

That  night,  Ned  dreamed  that  he  came  down  to 
breakfast  and  lo,  his  father  told  him  to  hurry,  be- 
cause they  were  all  packed  and  ready  to  start ;  and 
there  in  the  front  yard  was  the  scull-boat,  heaped 
with  household  goods,  and  waiting.  His  mother 
and  father  and  Maggie  got  in,  and  then  when  he  fol- 
lowed he  had  scarcely  any  room.  Off  moved  the 
scull-boat,  down  the  street,  with  him  trying  to  stick 
on  ;  and  into  the  river  it  glided — and  just  across  the 
river,  where  the  swimming-beach  used  to  be,  was 
Chicago.  Faster  sped  the  boat,  and  now  one  of  his 
legs  dangled  in  the  water,  and  next  both,  and  next 
he  was  slipping,  slipping,  slipping,  and  with  one  last 
despairing  clutch  he  was  left  behind !  He  swam 
after  the  boat  as  hard  as  he  could,  but  his  clothes 
pulled  him  down,  and  nobody  noticed  him — until 
suddenly  dear  old  Bob  was  there  in  the  water  beside 
him,  and  catching  hold  of  Bob's  stiff  tail  he  was 
towed,  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute,  back  to  Com- 
modore Jones'  fish-market. 

But  when  he  woke  up,  it  wasn't  so  ! 

The  remaining  weeks  were  busy  ones  for  Ned. 
He  had  so  many  things  to  do,  as  farewells.  Strange 
to  say,  all  his  friends  envied  him  because  he  was 
going,  and  he  envied  them  because  they  were  stay- 
ing !  Only,  he  did  not  let  on  how  he  felt ;  it  is 
rather  nice  to  be  envied,  you  see  !  Yet  deep  in  his 
heart  he  wished  that  he  might  have  a  while  longer 


Changes  279 

in  Beaufort,  where  he  knew  everybody  and  where 
there  was  so  much  fun. 

At  last  his  final  trips  down  the  river,  and  up  the 
river,  and  across  the  river,  and  to  the  flats,  and 
everywhere  else,  had  been  made.  He  had  shaken 
hands  with  Commodore  Jones — who  took  pipe  from 
mouth  long  enough  to  say :  "  Well,  good  luck  to 
you,  boy  !  " — and  had  patted  the  scull-boat — who 
said  nothing — good-bye  for  a  space.  At  last  all  the 
chores  and  errands  of  "  moving  "  had  been  done. 
The  furniture  had  been  stored,  to  be  shipped  later, 
the  house  was  bare  and  empty,  and  it  was  high 
time  they  got  out,  for  another  family  was  waiting  to 
get  in. 

The  Millers  slept,  that  night,  at  a  neighbor's ;  and 
in  the  morning  they  left. 

Ah,  how  limp  Ned  felt,  at  going.  Chicago  could 
not  hold  a  candle,  he  was  sure,  to  Beaufort — even 
South  Beaufort,  where  lurked  Big  Mike  and  Big 
Mike's  "  gang." 

Hal  and  Tom  and  Zu-zu  were  at  the  station  to  see 
him  off.  Hal  brought  as  a  parting  gift  a  knife  with 
six  blades  (better  than  even  the  knife  which  had  been 
lost  among  the  Indian  mounds),  Tom  a  flaming  red 
silk  handkerchief  (a  thing  of  beauty),  and  Zu-zu  six 
No.  8  shot  (once  they  had  been  in  Ned's  shoulder) 
set  in  a  watch-charm ! 

"  You've  all  got  to  come  and  see  me  as  quick 
as  we're  fixed ;  don't  you  forget ! "  reminded 
Ned. 


280  Beaufort  Chums 

"  We  will — and  you've  got  to  come  and  see  us, 
too  !  "  they  reminded,  back. 

Ned  was  hoping  that  something  might  be  wrong 
with  the  engine,  so  that  the  train  could  not  start. 
But  alas ! 

"  All  abo-o-oard  !  "  sang  the  conductor,  watch  in 
hand. 

"  Clang,  clang !  Clang,  clang ! "  warned  the  bell. 
"  Choo !  Choo !  Choo  !  "  warned  the  exhaust.  The 
train  began  to  move. 

"  Good-bye  !  "  called  the  friends — Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Miller's  friends,  as  well  as  Ned's,  were  on  the  plat- 
form— waving. 

"  Good-bye  !  "  called  Ned,  through  the  window, 
waving  in  answer.  "  Good-bye,  Hal !  Good-bye, 
Tom  !  Good-bye,  Zu-zu  !  " 

Across  the  bridge,  over  the  river,  rolled  the  train ; 
past  the  breakwater,  where  he  had  rescued  Tom,  and 
above  which  was  the  swimming-beach ;  past  the 
slough,  where  he  had  been  shot,  and  over  which  was 
the  trestle  from  which  Bob  had  taken  his  amazing 
flight ;  and  on  and  on,  into  the  country.  Beaufort 
and  Beaufort  people,  Eagle  Island,  Deep  Creek,  and 
all,  were  far  behind. 

"  Just  the  samee,  I'm  coming  back  every  chance  I 
get !  "  vowed  Ned,  stoutly  fighting  to  keep  down  the 
tears. 

"  Of  course  you  are  ! "  said  his  mother,  putting  her 
arm  around  him. 


Changes  281 

Whereupon  Ned  proceeded  to  make  the  most 
gorgeous  plans  that  ever  were;  and  the  best  thing 
about  them  is — that  some  of  them  came  true ! 


THE   END 


M61919 


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